Turnabout Twist
by scurvylemon
Summary: What began as a tough day in court led to something entirely unexpected - and then Phoenix's worst nightmares came true. Unrequited love and mortal peril - all in a day's work. Completed!
1. Chapter 1

AN;

So this is my first Phoenix Wright fic, xP. Just finished PW: JFA, and haven't placed the first one, so there may be some inconsistencies in Edgeworth's character, but I tried to write him as faithfully as possible.

I'm not quite sure if I want to do another chapter to this; I might do. I appreciate that Phoenix and Edgeworth is slightly overdone (At least, by what I've seen by the fics here) but I love Edgeworth, xP. He is fan_tas_tic. No joke. Not even sure if I'll pair them up, in the end.

Comments are very much appreciated, and I do try to reply to each comment. Feedback on my writing style and overall adherence to Phoenix Wright cannon would be very much appreciated. As would general 'OMG UR AWESOME!!1!one' xD. I'm easily amused, kay?

---

Wright stormed into his apartment, slamming the door behind him. He almost growled as he ripped his jacket off and flung it onto the back of his chair before throwing himself into it. He almost ripped his tie from his throat and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, before flinging the tie away from him, where it snagged itself on the light fixture above. _Today,_ he thought as he rested his forehead on his hand, _has been a bad day._ One could say that was rather an understatement. As the phone began to ring, he glowered at the device and seriously contemplated kicking it out of his window. It was a tempting thought, but… no. He probably didn't have the money to replace it. Which was a pity, because the shrill ringing was really getting on his nerves.

He stretched out one hand to grab the receiver and, after staring at it for a few moments, sighed and placed the plastic device to his ear. "Yes?" he asked in a rather exasperated tone, indicating that somehow, the World had wronged him.

"Nick?" the chirpy voice on the other end blurted out. Who else would it be? Who else could just hammer the final nail in his coffin of frustration? Oh, Maya of course. "Nick, I was just calling to see if you're OK and –"

"I'm fine," he barked, shaking his head and staring at the ground. Fantastic.

"Nick…" the voice remonstrated, "You don't sound fine. After that case today, you stormed out of the offices. I'm – "

He cut her off shortly, "I'm fine, I said." He almost shouted down the phone then immediately regretted it. Why would he snap at Maya? She had done nothing wrong – it was all his fault. All his fault… his thoughts trailed off, swirling into a self-deprecating miasma. And Edgeworth certainly hadn't helped! Oh, time to apologise, he supposed, "I – I 'm sorry, Maya," he began slowly, regretting his earlier outburst. "It's just – it went badly today and …" he broke off.

"No, no Nick!" the disembodied voice burst out, chirpy and bright, "It's alright, I completely understand!" A giggle floated down the line, and she continued; "Anyways, I'll come over soon. Pearly has come to visit, and we made some dinner!"

"Oh… Great!" Phoenix said, false enthusiasm buoying his voice. He made a few pleasantries, then set the phone down with a thud. He really could not put up with Maya right now – although seeing Pearls would be nice, he supposed. The little girl was cute after all!

It seemed he had barely put down the phone, when all of a sudden there came a knocking at the door. Frowning, Phoenix rose to his feet and padded to the door, peering through the little peephole. What on earth…? A flash of crimson, and cascading linen alerted to him to his visitor and he swore abruptly. Edgeworth! What on earth was he doing here?!

Phoenix opened his door quickly, eyes narrowing as he stared at his visitor. "Edgeworth," he started abruptly, throwing his hand up as Edgeworth tried to speak, "If you've come here to gloat…" he warned Edgeworth, head tilting to the side.

"I'm not here to gloat," Edgeworth interjected quickly, pushing past Phoenix brusquely. He paused in the living room stroke kitchen and looked around, fists on his hips. His wrinkled nose and demeanour told Phoenix his thoughts; what a dump!, he was clearly thinking. He turned around, and his eyes took in the jacket thrown over the back of a chair, and a tie somewhat improbably hanging from a light fixture. He almost laughed, but restrained himself. "I came to – " here he paused, a slight smirk crossing his face. Was he really going to say this? "To apologise." He spoke hurriedly,

A range of emotions crossed Phoenix's face – most prominently, extreme surprise. He tried to school his face and placed his hands in his pockets, looking up at Edgeworth. He made a few false starts at talking and merely succeeded in spluttering, such was his surprise. "No need," he replied firmly, with a snort. "I am rather used to your asinine comments and harsh name calling."

Edgeworth almost smiled at that – almost. The best he could muster up was his typical, sardonic smirk. "Still," he started, regarding Phoenix steadily. "I feel I do owe you some sort of an apology, Wright." He glanced around the apartment again and sighed, before seating himself in what had previously been Phoenix's chair.

Phoenix watched him for a long, awkward moment. "I suppose I accept your apology," he finally said, then snorted as Edgeworth seated himself. Did he want something else? After all, he had barged in rudely, and was looking rather … smug with himself. And also, there was a certain air of expectancy about him. "Did…" he paused a moment, to consider, "Did you want a drink?" At Edgeworth's nod, he head off towards the kitchen part of the dingy apartment he called 'open plan' and 'cosy'.

"Scotch would be nice," the prosecutor murmured, looking around him. He really hadn't expected that Phoenix received such low pay – it was abysmal! He got up from the chair and walked towards the window – where he opened it and leant out, breathing in the fresh air. He could see little from here, save a busy street below, and a tree on the street corner. How depressing. Some pot plants would really cheer this place up.

"Scotch?" Phoenix almost laughed – he was not regularly in the practice of drinking. Alcohol was expensive, after all! With a shrug, he leant further into his cupboards and rummaged around. He emerged, somewhat dustier and cobwebbed, with a bottle of clear liquid. He peered at the label, then poked at the bow that ringed the neck of the vodka bottle. Must have been a present, or something. He shrugged and wiped the dust from the bottle, and set to opening it. Now what? "No scotch!" he called out, taken somewhat aback at his behaviour – why on earth were he and Edgeworth acting so convivial? He did welcome the change – anything was an improvement on the usual banter they shared. Although, there had been lapses, recently… He smiled and filled two short glasses with ice, pouring the vodka over it. Mm, he supposed this would do.

Edgeworth turned as Phoenix approached him, a glass in each hand. One eyebrow arched as he took the glass from Phoenix, that almost but not quite a smile gracing his face. As he eyed it curiously – inspecting it? who knows, a prosecutors job is never over – he glanced at Phoenix. "Trying to get me drunk, Wright?" he demanded, then finally smiled and took a sip. With a somewhat appreciative noise, he knocked back the glass and set it down on the coffee table. "Of course," he paused to smirk that wonderful smirk of his, "Alcohol was not the reason I came here." An odd glint came into his eyes – his expression was similar to his 'I'm right, I'm wonderful, and I won' face. Of course, not that Wright knew it well…

Phoenix paused, mid-sip. He let the liquid wash over his lips and tongue, savouring the rarely tasted liquid. He sighed and removed the glass from his lips, arching one thin 'brow. "Well…" he trailed off, pausing as he saw the tie, snagged on a light. That could be a fire hazard – although the insurance money he could get… shook his head and turned back to Edgeworth, looking somewhat confused. "What?"

Edgeworth laughed a sardonic laugh and turned his back, returning to looking out of the window. What a depressing sight – he could never get used to something like this. Building after grey building, with very little greenery in sight. Although the constant sunshine did help, very little of it fell through the window in question. "Come on, Wright," his voice oozed towards Phoenix, and Edgeworth turned his head slightly, to regard the attorney out of the corner of his eye. "Use a little of that 'attorney' intelligence. You've got some clues. Now where's the motive?"

Phoenix sighed, and stared at the glass in his hand. Now alcohol – see, that was uncomplicated. He could understand vodka – he could understand if he drank too much of it, he would get quite drunk. And he enjoyed this clear comprehension, it was one less puzzle in his life that needed working out. And damn, his life was full of puzzles; murder charges, constant appearances in court, working with an inept judge… "You see, Edgeworth," he began as he took the necessary steps towards a chair. He sat in it, with a comfortable sigh, "I can never understand what you are talking about. A motive… clues?! Clues to what?"

Edgeworth laughed once more and turned, to gather his class and pace to the counter. He filled his glass again and returned to his vantage point at the window. He took a slow sip and bit at his lower lip, clearly out of Phoenix's sight. God, the man was slow at times! Although he did make a fantastic lawyer, with a little… nudging. He smirked at that and shot a glance over his shoulder at Phoenix, watching the lawyer for a long moment. His eyes were appreciative as he merely watched his 'rival' for a few moments, then shook his head and sighed. "Come on, Phoenix!" he murmured, letting all trace of emotion slide from his face. "You're an attorney. Work things out."

Phoenix was utterly confused by now, and merely flung his arm out along the back of the chair. For a few moments, the glass was the most fascinating thing in the room – he was positively fascinated with it. A few long moments of contemplation, he became aware of the scarlet figure mirrored in the liquid, and sighed. What ridiculous game was Edgeworth up to? Of course, one of Edgeworth's comments had not escaped him – the use of his first name. What? He shook his head and placed the glass on his coffee table and got to his feet, padding to the window at which Edgeworth was standing. "Edgeworth," he began, thinking about his next statement. "If this is about a case, then will you just say it?! Stop with your silly mind games and just say whatever it is aloud!"

Edgeworth almost laughed at Phoenix's comments; did he really know what he was asking? Obviously not. With his head bowed, he watched the people below scurry around, in their meaningless little lives. How cynical. Phoenix stood there for quite some time before Edgeworth suddenly smirked that self-righteous smirk and turned, to face Phoenix. He stared at him for a long time, his expression positively unreadable and very cryptic. Suddenly, he lunged for Phoenix, his glass dropping in the process. The glass dropped on the floor and shattered, scintillating pieces of glass flying everywhere. Edgeworth had Phoenix pinned up against the wall, holding him there by brute force. He was very close to him, and an odd expression crossed his face – victory, it seemed. He would claim his prize. Suddenly, his mouth was on Phoenix's, and he was pressed up against the defence attorney. His tongue was probing Phoenix's lips and suddenly gained entrance, exploring the defence attorney. He kissed him furiously, ignoring the leaner man's struggles and noises of protest. He clung onto Phoenix for dear life, tongue battling with Phoenix's as he kissed him. Oh, how wonderful.

The door creaked open and a voice called out, "Nick! It's Pearly and me, we brought some dinner – " and the medium was standing in the doorway, a pizza box in her hands. She stood there for what seemed eternity, her eyes taking in every detail of the scene; jacket over the back of the chair, a tie flung onto a light in what could have been a moment of passion, a partially unbuttoned shirt, and the shattered glass covering the floor with its sparkle. But most importantly – the two figures of law caught in an act that was so out of character, she could hardly believe it. One hand was out flung to prevent Pearly from entering as she stood there, mouth open. Her eyes welled up with tears and she fled, dragging Pearly and the pizza box with her.

Phoenix almost snarled and promptly bit Edgeworth's lip, causing the larger man to stagger back with a muffled oath. He glared at Edgeworth and darted to the door, calling out "Maya! Maya!" as he went, but to no avail. He stopped at the corridor, suddenly hyperconscious of the partially undone shirt, and… the taste of Edgeworth's blood on his lips. He grimaced and turned to walk into his apartment, slamming the door behind him and very unaware of the glass littering the ground. He almost collapsed onto his couch, leaning forwards and cradling his forehead in his hand. "Goddamnit, Edgeworth," he began, not even deigning to look at the man. "Why are you still here?"


	2. Chapter 2

The door slammed in his face with an ominous thud, and Edgeworth stared at the unyielding wood for quite some time. Why had he been such an _idiot?_ It should have been obvious Phoenix wasn't interested… He sighed and turned away, pacing down the hallway, yet lacking his previous energy and strength. His hands were stuffed into his coat pockets and his hair was, for once, disarrayed and splayed out over his face. His lip was not bleeding; it had stopped a few minutes after Phoenix had bitten him, but he could still taste blood in his mouth – and Phoenix. He trotted down the stairs abruptly, only pausing when he came to the ground floor. There was a sight he was not prepared to see; Maya Fey hunched over, shoulders shaking with what may have been silent sobs. Pearly was looking concerned, but she had a pizza in her hands and as such, was absolutely fascinated by this new food she had fallen in love with.

He was fully prepared to pass her by, uncaring and intransigent, until she looked up with him, her eyes full of sorrow and loss. He paused for a moment at the door, about to open it, before turning around to face her. "Maya Fey," he began, unsure of how to proceed. How would one go about telling Phoenix's love interest that said lawyer was not gay and was, in fact, resisting quite fiercely? Well, he would have a go; "Look, what you saw – "

"Edgeworth," she started, her voice quavering and unsteady. She slowly got to her feet, using the handrail to pull herself up. "I know what I saw! You and – and Phoenix." She broke off again, eyes narrowing as she wavered. She wasn't sure why she felt like this – it was so puzzling, but she supposed that like Pearly said; she thought she was Phoenix's "special someone". Suppose not. She had felt such a heart-wrenching sense of betrayal and loss. And now here was the culprit – the filthy person who had stolen her Phoenix! She knew she was behaving –and thinking- extremely irrationally, and she hated that! She hated that Phoenix made her behave so awfully, so irresponsibly and… eurgh. She didn't know what it was, just that she despised it. "You awful man!" in this state, that of course was the worst insult she could think of.

Edgeworth frowned and shook his head slowly, staring down at the young woman. "Nothing became of it," he muttered, conscious of the smell of alcohol on his breath. "I kissed him and that was it." He smirked, a half smile that never met his eyes. "You can see how he repaid me." He touched one finger to the cut in his lip, touching it gently. It was his only memento of a treasure stolen, of a fleeting moment in life where things… were going well. He turned his back on Maya, ignoring her expression, and stormed out of the building, onto the dismal street. He would get his revenge in court, oh yes he would… And it would be wonderful!

Maya stared up at Edgeworth as he stormed from the building. She could see the tension in him; not just his facial expression, which he tried to keep carefully blank, but by the set of his shoulders and the firmness of his stride. This rejection was something that had hit him strongly. Edgeworth was unused to failure and this was tough on him.

But forget him! Maya sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. With bloodshot eyes, she turned to Pearly, who was sitting on a step and looking slightly ill. No surprise, considering the amount of pizza she had eaten. "Come on, Pearly," she said, taking the box from the little girl. She was hardly being a good example, now was she? She bit at her lip and took the little girl, padding from the building. She had completely forgotten the report she had tucked away; something that could be quite dangerous to Phoenix.

Phoenix sat in that chair for what felt like decades – with dispassionate eyes, he watched the sun finally go down and the sky darken into inky blackness. He sat there until he was driven to turn on the lights, and begin sweeping up all the glass and vodka that had been spilt on the floor. His own glass sat untouched on his table, lonely and waiting. As he worked, he thought over the events – Edgeworth had been drunk. He must have been! He had probably started drinking before coming to Phoenix's, and driven by alcoholic lust, had tried to kiss him. He probably wouldn't even remember in the morning – in the morning! Trial! He swore vehemently as he threw the glass into the rubbish and dusted off his hands. He knew he should probably try to sweep again – glass was an insidious material, and would get anywhere and everywhere. Even the trial was swept from his mind by the late afternoon's events, and thoughts of both Edgeworth and Maya.

Maya! Damnit, why did the girl have to get so emotional? He paused by his lonely glass and tossed the rest off, before placing the glass in a teetering tower of dishes. He'd get round to them tomorrow. Of course, he always said that – always tomorrow, never today. He almost sulked as he grabbed his miscellaneous items of clothing from the living area – jacket and tie – and went into his bedroom, quickly shucking his clothing.

As he stepped into an almost blisteringly hot shower, his head was bowed. The water slicked his hair down his neck and across his face, blinding him to the world around him. What on earth was he going to do tomorrow? Both Maya and Edgeworth would be at the trial – Maya as his assistant, and Edgeworth as his rival. Damnit Edgeworth, why did you have to do this? Irrational prosecutor. Must be some sort of disarming technique he'd learnt from one of the Von Karma's, or something. As he sunk down against the shower wall, water cascading onto his body, he groaned and tossed his head back. Edgeworth wouldn't be so underhanded, would he? He had said Phoenix had some clues – what was the motive? And he certainly hadn't been acting intoxicated – far from it. While he was acting the strangest Phoenix had ever seen, he certainly hadn't been intoxicated. Nor had he smelt of alcohol. So what was the obvious reason? Well, he had gone insane. The stress of work had addled his mind, and he was insane. That was the only logical reason – Edgeworth couldn't be gay! And certainly not like him – his rival. He couldn't be, could he?

He turned off the taps and stood in his bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. He stared into the foggy mirror, idly tracing silhouettes on the mirror. The figure in the mirror was oddly familiar – before he let himself identify it, he erased the mirror, growling under his breath. At least he had gotten his own back – he had bitten him! He grinned at the memory and escaped into his bedroom, slipping under the covers. He curled up in his bed, slipping into blissful sleep in moments.

Dawning sun infiltrated his bedroom, bright shafts of light falling across Phoenix's eyes. He grumbled and rolled over, throwing out an arm in defence. He had forgotten to close the curtains again, he supposed. Another late night. A headache was threatening, building up at the nape of his neck. In this lovely pre-awakening mood, he couldn't remember what had happened the night before – and he supposed subliminally, he didn't really want to. He lay in bed for a good half hour before the insistent shrilling of his alarm went off with its usual cacophonous shouts, and he finally properly 'awoke'. He grumbled and rolled over again, before finally swinging his legs out over the edge of his bed. Shower time, he supposed, wondering why on earth his mouth tasted like several small animals had nested in it. A mystery – to be solved in the shower! He got up from his bed, almost tumbling over in a moment of weakness, and stumbled towards his bathroom. Running the shower, he stared blearily into the mirror. As the glass began to fog up, he saw the shape he had drawn on it last night – and so abruptly remembered.

"Oh damn damn damn damn…" the attorney almost sang as he got into the hot shower, letting the water cascade about him. This was not fantastic. Hell, this was so far from fantastic – it was abysmal! Go figure. The man he was facing in court today just _would_ be the one to hit on him the night before.

Although Edgeworth had been drinking… granted, not heavily. A small glass of vodka was not enough to get Edgeworth even near tipsy. But perhaps he had been drinking before he had come to Phoenix's? Oh yes, that was possible. Although he had not smelt of alcohol… But he must have been drinking. That was the only rationale for this – the only reason Edgeworth would have been hitting on him. He had been absolutely _smashed_. It was the only logical explanation, no? Flying in the face of all the evidence – that was what he did. And did it well, damnit!

Of course, he had completely forgotten Maya. Finishing off his morning ablutions with a scrub of his teeth, he ignored the figure drawn on his mirror and exited into his bedroom, where with a critical eye, he gazed at his clothing. Perhaps the standard blue suit and pink tie was a bad idea? It did seem a bit bright and – and maybe! – that's why Edgeworth thought he was… gay. Phoenix was drawing heavily on his knowledge of stereotypes. So that's why, this morning, he dug into the very back of his closet to withdraw the one black suit he had. Brushing off the dust, he slipped into said suit, finishing it off with an equally sombre black tie. Fantastic. Although, he did miss the pink tie… Sighing, he drew gelled hands through his dark hair, creating the trademark spikes – as sharp as he was. Unfortunately, one was flopping this morning. He shook his head at the whimsies of his hair and, grabbing an apple and his briefcase, stormed from his apartment. Court mode now.


	3. Chapter 3

AN:

Woo. Chapter three. Cheers for the reviews, people. I enjoy the comments. Any critiques, comments pointing out idiotic blatant errors on my part… they're wonderful. Honestly.

Hah, as one reviewer pointed out; Yeah, love triangle! Epic win. Granted, slightly clichéd, but still oh-so wonderful. I have got the most part of the plot worked out, apart from the 'love triangle of DOOM'. We'll see how it goes though.

Expect chapters to be coming quickly, I have a couple weeks break off, and writing fanfic is MUCH more fun than studying for my IB exams. As interesting/mind boggling as relativity is… Ahaha. 

Argh. My inspiration has somewhat been stolen by a myriad of English essays… epic fail. 

---

Phoenix strode into the lobby, cheeks slightly flushed and breath coming quickened as a result of his exertion. He idly ran his hands through his spikes, ascertaining that they were still perky, and nodded, more to himself. He could see his defendant, seated on a bench in the corner and looking very, very frightened. He could understand the petite woman's fear; yesterday had not gone well. At all. He ignored the dull thudding in his head and strode over to the little woman, pausing a few feet from her. He greeted her with a little smile and grabbed a spare chair, seating himself quickly. 

"Look, Amelie," he began hurriedly, with no preface bothering with a 'hello' or anything. "Today did not go well. Today…" he trailed off and stared at her, narrowing his eyes. "I have to know – did you kill Pierre, or not?"

The little chef stared up at him, those dark large eyes opened so wide they put Bambi to shame. She looked so innocent, it was hard to doubt her when she said, demurely, "No." It was barely a murmur, but there was nothing to convince Phoenix. She pulled her feet up to her, hugging them. 

He didn't believe her. He really didn't believe her. Where was Maya when he needed her, with that little Magatama of hers? She had taken it back from him some time ago, sadly enough. It had been a handy tool. As he thought, his face suddenly blanched as he remembered another part of yesterday's activities. Maya's face at the door, her almost sprinting away… He cleared his throat, fighting back the unknown emotion that tried to overwhelm him, and turned back to Amelie. "Alright," he said, with fake cheer. "I'll see what I can do today." He got up and pushed the chair away from him, grabbing the briefcase that had been resting against his legs.

Suddenly, it was time. With a gulp, Phoenix strode through the doors into the courtroom, taking his position at the defendant's post. He placed the briefcase down and withdrew the court record, eyes perusing the record meticulously. Everything pointed to Amelie, and no amount of blustering and badgering would change that. Not even a new witness. Her fingerprints all over the murder weapon – a nasty looking meat cleaver-, CCTV footage of her entering the kitchen about the time of murder, and a number of witnesses testifying to the same. He was, to put it bluntly, screwed. Especially when the prosecutor was –

Edgeworth. The man strode into the courtroom with his usual arrogance, sweeping into the room like he owned it. He was resplendent in his usual – the magenta jacket, and the snowy white cravat that cascaded down his neck. He smirked when he saw Pheonix, no trace of fondness or indeed, any emotion, crossing his face. He slammed his own briefcase down on his bench and took up his typical dominant position, arrogance written all over his face. He couldn't let Wright faze him today – he had desperately tried to erase that memory with what seemed like a shelf of whiskey.

Phoenix gritted his teeth as Edgeworth swept into the room imperiously, and glanced up at the judge. Today would be horrendous, that much he could tell. There was no way he could get a 'Not Guilty' verdict – the best he could do was to try to get a plea of self-defence. Although that would be hard, considering removing the attacker's head was not a typical method of self-defence. 

"Court is now in session. Continuing from yesterday, the LeBlanc murder trial. As we left off tomorrow – Prosecutor, I believe you have no other witnesses to present?"

"Correct, sir," Edgeworth responded, almost – but not quite – sounding demure.

"Then I really see no reason to continue this trial. It is clear from all the evidence – the meat cleaver, the several witnesses, and CCTV footage, that Madame LeBlanc is the murderer. The verdict is – "

"Objection!" Wright yelled out, knuckles white as he clutched the bench. "I wish to move for a plea of self-defence!" There were murmurs at this new outburst, mostly of indignation.

"Wright," Edgeworth began, that cynical smirk on his face. "I really don't see where this is going. It is obvious that Madame LeBlanc is the murderer. There is no evidence for self-defense, nor is there any reasonable explanation. Had she been acting in self-defense, the victim's head would most likely still be attached."

Before Wright had time to object, the Judge swept in, gavel pounding down imperiously. "I agree with the prosecution. There is no evidence for you to plea self-defense, and this verdict will be final. I find Madame LeBlanc guilty of the crime of murder! Bailiffs, please take her into immediate custody."

It was over so fast. Not even in Phoenix's worst dreams of the day had he thought it would end so quickly. He thought he would have a chance! Any chance! He groaned and hung his head, not even watching as Amelie was taken into custody. This was the second time he had received a 'guilty' verdict, and it was crushing. He knew she had been the murderer – but such a moral problem was awful. He sighed and gathered up his paperwork, not even seeing why he had removed it. Ridiculous. He stuffed the papers into his briefcase and looked up – right into the cynical face he currently despised. "What?" he snapped, before his brain could catch up with his observations.

"Wright," Edgeworth started, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Your second guilty verdict. And the second time I have defeated you." He smirked wonderfully, gaze dropping to the defence attorney's briefcase. "Get used to it." He almost laughed and took a few steps away, glancing back over his shoulder. "Think of it as revenge." With that, he stalked off, cat-like, from the room. He was victorious, imperious, wonderful and commanding.

Phoenix frowned at Edgeworth's retreating back, brows knitting as he stared at the magenta – no, screw it, pink – coat. Revenge? For not kissing him? How ridiculous was that? He wished Maya was with him – she could always turn the situation. But no, Edgeworth had managed to alienate her, too. Fantastic. He almost growled and snatched up his briefcase and stalked from his room. He supposed he could bike over to his office, but honestly – he was not in the mood for work right now. Once this story got out – presumably it already had – his reputation would take another bashing. He shook his head as his defendant was led away, deliberately ignoring her gaze. One problem was done with today – now to deal with the other. Maya. Edgeworth, as a problem, was of course ignored.

He paced from the courtroom with measured steps, ignoring the press of people around him, blurting out questions and occasionally, the odd condemnation. He kept his eyes down, staring at the ground until he reached his bicycle. Or rather, where his bicycle had been. There was only the chain, laying across the ground solemnly, and the lock not too far from where the chain lay. That was almost too much. He narrowed his eyes at the spot where his bicycle had been, gritting his teeth and balling one hand into a furious fist. He almost snarled and was tempted – so tempted – to throw his briefcase on the ground and storm off in a huff. What was he to do now! There was only one possible solution – get _drunk _off his **head**. That was not the normal recourse he would take, but awful days called for strong double measures. Of a spirit, preferably. 

So, steeling his resolve, he lifted his head and ignored those odd glances, set off down the road. He was going in the general direction of his home, and would stop by at any pub on the way. For a little fortifying of course. He had barely gone half a mile when an inviting little pub beckoned him in, with it's reek of cigarette smoke enticing him in. He entered the gloomy dank of the pub, peering around him. Bizarre. It seemed like the regular customers were staring him – hm. He was probably not their usual type of clientele. Hm. With a snort, he slid onto a bar stool and placed the briefcase at his feet, glancing up at the barkeeper. He pushed some money across the till, murmuring his order. He held the glass in his hand, staring into the golden depths of the whiskey before him. He smiled, before tipping it back and gulping. With a grimace, he pushed it across the counter, asking for another. The road to intoxication is a harsh tasting and short one.

It was several hours later, and an uncountable amount of liquor later. Phoenix was slumped on the bar of another pub, sans a suit jacket and briefcase, but of course this – he didn't notice. He was extolling his woes at length to anyone who would listen and proclaiming in dramatic tones just whose fault it was – Edgeworth! Edgeworth, that conniving _bastard_! Edgeworth, that tall, malicious… stupidly handso – he broke off, head finally meeting bar counter. Perhaps he had drunk a little much. He was moments away from sliding off – no, wait. He slid from the barstool and collapsed onto the ground, staring at the haze of smoke that obscured the ceiling that was horrendously far away. What was that? Something was intruding his field of vision, pulling him to his feet. "Edgeworth!" he exclaimed, finally putting magenta jacket to a name, "You _bas_tard!" he chatted convivially, a drunkard's smile plastered on his face. He staggered out of the bar under Edgeworth's control, wondering at his sudden change. He was almost chucked into a car seat and buckled in, with no small amount of difficulty. 

With a lopsided grin he stared up at Edgeworth, proclaiming loudly; "Hi!" with enthusiasm ringing in his voice. The image in magenta ignored him stoically and slid into the driver's side seat, starting the engine of his rather pretty red convertible. Phoenix lolled against the side of the door, face plastered up against the window of the car. He stared out at the lights flashing by, then abruptly wished he hadn't. Turning to Edgeworth, he put on his best charming drunk smile. 

"Where we going?" he asked, slurring somewhat. He leant over to beam into Edgeworth's face, his hair disarrayed and a lock falling over his face. He beamed sunnily, blinking dark eyes at Edgeworth innocently.

Edgeworth glanced down at Phoenix, somewhat disconcerted by the man so close… He groaned and looked up, focusing on the road in front of him. "I'm taking you home, Wright." He muttered, glaring at the drunken attorney sprawled all over his car. "Don't touch that!" he barked as Phoenix inquisitively began playing with the buttons.

Suddenly, music blasted from the speakers, and Phoenix jumped back with a squeak of surprise. He stared at the stereo in confusion, wondering why thumping metal was assaulting his ears. Perplexed, he watched as Edgeworth leant over to turn it down, and grinned sheepishly. "That was cool," he slurred, then leant against the window again. His hair was everywhere by now, falling fro its customary spikes. "Taking me home?" he asked, "Whatcha gonna do them, Edgy-boy?" he queried, looking up innocently at Edgeworth with that goofily wasted smile. "Have some fun?" 

Edgeworth – or Edgy, as he seemed to be known – almost growled at Phoenix. There was no talking to the man when he was this…out of it. He almost laughed at the question, slowly applying the brake as he turned a corner. Now, where was Phoenix's apartment? "Fun?" he murmured, leaning forwards to peer through the gloom. "I can't apply that to the situation. Considering what happened last time…" Come to think of it, it was rather fun to speak with a drunken Phoenix. He must inebriate the lawyer again. Although, he doubted Phoenix would allow him to go near him! He laughed bitterly and pulled up on the pavement, disengaging the ignition. "Come on, drunkard," he muttered, getting out of the car and opening Phoenix's door.

Phoenix was only half-awake as the door was opened, and gave an abrupt start as the door was opened. He glanced up at Edgeworth and looked very confused – what was Edgeworth doing here? Stomach heaving, he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and subsequently hauled up the many flights of stairs to his flat. This did take some time, of course. Drunk men don't take stairs well. He finally arrived at his door and went to pat his jacket down – then abruptly realised he didn't have it. "Shit!" he exclaimed, staring up at Edgeworth in a sudden moment of lucidity. "Keys," he muttered, in lieu of explanation.

Edgeworth frowned for a long moment, only just noticing the lack of jacket and – importantly – a briefcase. He sighed, then withdrew his own bundle of keys from a pocket, sorting through the assorted metal. "I still have the key you gave me," he murmured, not noticing Phoenix had fallen to the ground, slumped and looking dead to the world. He inserted it into the lock and opened the door, stepping in to turn on the lights. "Phoenix," he muttered as he walked in, then swore and turned. Phoenix was still outside, no? With a long suffering sigh, he went back to the door of the apartment and smiled fondly down at the sleeping Phoenix. He looked so vulnerable and wonderful like that – no trace of the sudden resentment tinged his gaze. He groaned and bent down, hauling the man to his feet. "Come on you," he murmured, pulling him through the door. Kicking it shut behind him, Edgeworth considered his position with a laugh. Phoenix, ridiculously drunk. Not a state he would expect Phoenix to be in, although considering his day… He sighed and pulled the half awake man through to his bedroom, laying him down on the bed. Now what?

"Edgeworth," a sudden voice murmured and Phoenix propped himself up on one elbow to watch Edgeworth with suddenly clear eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, a faint smile touching those desired lips. He smiled for a long moment, before falling back onto the bed, arms spread out and breathing deep.

Well, that was unexpected. Edgeworth watched the man, trying not to let even the faintest trace of emotion colour his face. He bent to undo the mans shoes, removing them carefully. He set the shoddy shoes aside carefully, noting with dismay the quality of his garb. This black suit was an unexpected development – had he really affected Phoenix that much? That fact alone made him feel shame with a hot blush, and he paused for a long moment, considering his next move. He shrugged, and began to undo Phoenix's shirt, trying desperately to control his breathing. Midway down he paused to merely stare at the sleeping man, to stare at the faint smile that tinged Phoenix's lips. It seemed mysterious – enigmatic. Even the hair falling over Phoenix's eyes made him seem more… he didn't want to think, attractive. Dashing? Fantastic? Irresistible. Perhaps. He didn't want to give into these emotions, and bent to his task, unbuttoning the rest of the shirt in a brisk manner. Removing it from the drunk, he got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a few pain pills and a large bottle of water. Phoenix would need that in the morning. Placing them by the bed, he bent to undo the bed sheets and tuck Phoenix in, making him comfortable. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the man that had captivated him, ensnared his desire, emotion, and thrown away all reason. He shook his head and made to stood up, when –

Phoenix stared up at Edgeworth, all traces of alcohol gone for a long moment. Save the smell of liquor on his breath, of course. He smiled and stared at Edgeworth through long lashes, unaware of the effect that sultry gaze had on the prosecutor. He stretched out a hand to encapsulate Edgeworth's wrist and let a smile curve his full lips. "It may be the alcohol talking," he began unsteadily, then abruptly sat up in bed and stared him full in the face. He paused after speaking, as if considering his next move, then grinned and leant forwards, to seize Edgeworth violently. He kissed him fervently, letting his tongue run over the other man's lips, proving entrance. Then just as suddenly, he broke it and fell back into a prone position, pulling the duvet around him. "Stay with me," he said softly, looking up at Edgeworth with those sultry eyes that just drove Edgeworth crazy.

Of course, what could Edgeworth do? He couldn't resist. "Of course," he murmured, smiling quite broadly.


	4. Chapter 4

Phoenix's eyes slowly fluttered open

A/N: Ooh, time for me to ramble again. Sorry it's taken so long for this update – my week so far has consisted of… sleeping, and mooching around the house. Plus, a review on my other fic. somewhat annoyed me and drained my will to write. People are lovely, aren't they? Anyways, I've almost finished PW: AA xD. Spent all of last night on it, sadly.

The plot has pretty much been set down solidly, except for a few niggling details I thought of last night, while giggling foolishly over amusing moments. Eventual pairing? Don't think it'll even happen, to be entirely honest. So don't get your hopes up for any Phoenix/Edgey slash, xP. Although if it'll make people read – OMFG SLASH AHOY!

It's amusing to read the stats breakdown, isn't it? Only **76** people have read on to chapter three. How depressing is that? Seriously. Although the reviews make me happy. Continue with those. Now, back to economics essays that were due over a month ago, then fanfic!

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Phoenix's eyes slowly fluttered open. He wasn't quite sure what had woken him – he only knew the unpleasant facts. His stomach was roiling and his head – well, the less mentioned about his headache, the better. He spotted the bottle of water and painkillers left there the night before, and a faint smile crossed his face. He never would have thought to do that. Taking a few swallows, and the painkillers, he rolled over, prepared to get some more sleep. But first, to thank whomever had come home with him last night. Feigning sleep, he let his hand reach out, to caress the broad, flat, firm chest of the other occupant of the bed. Hang on… flat? He frowned and withdrew the hand, opening his eyes to stare straight into the face of none other than Miles Edgeworth. He stifled a shout and scurried to the edge of his bed, pulling the sheets up to cover his own naked chest. Naked?! He glanced down and breathed a sigh of relief – he was still wearing his pants. So no drunken fumbles had happened… So he hoped.

"Good morning to you too," the deep voice of Edgeworth uttered, and the man turned his head to stare at the scared Phoenix. A smile crossed his full, masculine lips as he looked over Phoenix, ignoring the confused expression. He was trying hard to suppress a laugh; that expression was priceless! Now, should he toy with Phoenix a little, or leave the poor man to his cataclysmic headache? He was tempted by the former, but he just didn't feel like being that cruel, so early on in the morning. "Don't worry," he almost barked, pushing back the duvet and swinging his legs out over the edge of the bed. Damnit, it was cold. It certainly wasn't this cold the other morning – a quick glance out of the window confirmed his fear. It was snowing. With a snort, he turned and stared at Phoenix, "Nothing happened. I found you in a bar. You were very, very drunk. So I brought you home, put you to bed, and…" as he broke off, he saw the sudden glint of fear in Phoenix's eyes and gave in to laughter. That look was priceless! "You asked me to stay with you. Nothing happened." _Unfortunately_, he thought, turning his gaze back to the window.

Phoenix bit at his lip, eyes widening. How drunk had he gotten? Drunk enough to let Edgeworth take him home, obviously… He shuddered and averted his gaze, following Edgeworth's eyes to the window. Problems were forgotten the moment he saw the flakes drifting down, and he almost jumped up like a child. Snow! How fantastic. Although that could not erase the issue at hand – what on earth had happened? He shrugged and shook his head, getting out of the bed. Why on earth was he still wearing his suit pants? He frowned and patted them, eyeing the stains that littered the magenta fabric. Damnit. He merely shook his head and snagged a pair of jeans and a shirt from his wardrobe, glancing at the back of Edgeworth. It was quite a nice back… he broke off. "I'm going to take a shower," he said tersely, almost fleeing into the bathroom.

Edgeworth almost turned as Phoenix ran, arching one brow as Phoenix disappeared from the room. Pity. "Enjoy," he murmured and slowly got to his feet, padding from the room. Coffee time? Probably. He shivered in the cold, contemplating putting on his shirt – but no, it was somewhat soiled by Phoenix. Eugh. So he left the bedroom, shuddering as his bare feet touched the cold wood of the central living area. Could he honestly not afford to put on the heating? He frowned and, spying a blanket, tossed it over his shoulders as he prepared coffee for Phoenix, and a mug of tea for himself. This was not exactly how he had managed waking up with Phoenix. In his dreams, there was certainly a lot more cuddling, kissing, and… he broke off as the kettle whistled it's readiness and filled the two cups with boiling liquid. He yawned as the rich aroma of coffee wound its way up to his nostrils and he smiled in pleasure. He loved the smell of the liquid but the taste – foul. Snagging the milk from Phoenix's fridge, he eyed the green fuzzy things inhabiting the fridge. He could have sworn one of them had… moved? No… Making a face, he turned to pour milk into his tea, and sipped happily. Such was his morning ritual – a lovely cup of tea, shower… he paused as he heard the shower stop, and tried desperately to wipe those images from his mind. Biting his lower lip, he took another sip of the tea and padded to the window, leaving Phoenix's mug where it stood. The snow blanketing the city below was rather pretty, wasn't it? He could just imagine the view from his office. He stared at the snow, at the cars skidding around frantically on the ice. Chaotic, no? However, a sudden noise alerted him – he turned slightly to see Phoenix emerge from the bedroom, towelling his hair furiously with one hand, and trying to button up his shirt with the other. He was not doing well, at either task.

Tossing the towel onto his couch with a grunt of disgust, Phoenix glanced up and gave a start. Edgeworth. He'd forgotten about him. The taller man was encased in a blanket, looking… pensive. A typical expression for the man. He composed himself, then sniffed the air. Coffee? Coffee! Spying the mug, he grabbed it and took a welcome sip, sitting up on the counter. A bad habit, he knew, but one he would persist in. The silence was awkward, he mused as he sipped at the coffee.

"There's still hot water," he blurted out, glancing up at Edgeworth over the rim of the mug. "If you want a shower." That didn't really improve things, did it? He sighed and continued staring into the murky brown depths of his coffee.

Edgeworth glanced up and over at Phoenix, cradling the tea in his hands. True, the silence had gotten a bit awkward. But of course, what could one expect? He had hit on Phoenix, and then… he broke off, grinning. Slept in his bed, no? Hiding that mischievous expression from the other man – what would he think? – he nodded tersely and downed his tea. He placed it on the counter and then made a face, glancing at his trousers. "Wright," he started, "happen to have any trousers I could borrow? You, er…" he trailed off, nose crinkling in disgust.

Phoenix looked up, startled as Edgeworth addressed him. Taking in the state of Edgeworth's trousers – don't look at him too long! – he shrugged. "You're a bit bigger than I am," he commented, "I doubt any of my jeans would fit you." That said, he glanced over Edgeworth again. "I have some sweats, though. They're baggy on me, so they may fit you. And some shirts." He nodded again then slid from the counter, padding to the sofa. "Feel free to rummage around."

Edgeworth just stared at Phoenix, sighing and walking off towards the bedroom. The man was intolerable at times! He closed the door behind him softly and stared at the wardrobe. Right. Clothes that would fit him. He opened the wardrobe doors and smiled faintly at the faint musty scent arising from Phoenix's clothes. They smelt like him. Unsurprising. He smirked and picked out a pair of sweatpants, holding them against him. They would do. He then did the same with a pile of shirts, until he found one large enough to fit him. Throwing the clothing over his shoulder, he paused a moment at his whimsy, and went into the bathroom. Turning on the taps, he let the steam surround him before stepping into the hot water, relaxing completely.

Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief –almost- as Edgeworth left. He could feel the tension dissipating. Although it wasn't just Edgeworth's fault – Phoenix was to blame, too. And why shouldn't he feel uncomfortable? Although he did have to admit, he did enjoy Edgeworth's company. At times, when he wasn't being a sardonic smirking _git_. His thoughts drifted back to the fourth grade – a few halcyon months where they were some sort of terrible trio. Larry the troublemaker, Miles the perfect, and him… The in-between boy. He liked to think he balanced them out. Until Miles left, after the DL-6 incident. He made a face at the memory of that trial. Damn, he had barely made it out alive. He was sure Von Karma… he cut himself off before he depressed himself too much. He had won. That was enough. Edgeworth hadn't been sentenced, and was still alive. That was what mattered. He realised what he was thinking, and almost laughed, leaning back in the couch. His back had scarcely touched the back, when at the door came a riotous tapping.

Maya took a deep breath and rapped on the door furiously, eyes intent as she scowled at the door. "Phoenix!" she called out, ignoring the protests from the apartments around her. "Edgeworth! I don't care what you're doing in there, let me in!" She stood for a long moment, before eyeing the door curiously. She could take it, couldn't she? She took a few steps, and charged blindly at the door with her shoulder, eyes clenched as she braced –

Phoenix groaned and got to his feet, opening the door at what seemed a ludicrously wonderfully timed moment. Maya spilled in past the threshold, landing in a purple heap on the ground. He blinked at her curiously, before grinning and offering her a hand up. He hauled her to her feet, tilting his head to one side. "Hello to you too," he murmured, "That was quite an entrance."

By the time Maya had gotten to her feet, she was blushing furiously. That had not gone as planned, had it? Never mind. She straightened out her clothing, brushing herself down and sniffing. She would ignore him. Well, not ignore him. Just treat him badly. That would teach him! But there was something he couldn't ignore… She grabbed the paper she had been carrying and sat down by the coffee table, opening the newspaper and slamming it onto the table.

**DISTRICT COURT JUDGE MURDERED BY SILENT KILLER**

**DISTRICT COURT JUDGE FOUND DEAD AT HIS HOME, MURDERED BRUTALLY. POLICE PUZZLED, LAW COMMUNITY SHOCKED BY MURDER OF PROMINENT FIGURE. **

The district judge was found murdered at his home early this morning, by relatives. The scene was described as "horrific" and "deplorable" by those who discovered his body. The judge, over his long term, had pushed for the abolishment of the death penalty, and lived to see his dream come true. Unfortunately, coupled with the breakout at the state's death row prison, it placed him in extreme danger. Most of the most dangerous people he has sentenced were waiting to be executed when he finally got this law passed – Dee Vasquez, among others involved in the break out – are still at large in the community. After their escape on the 20th, all but one are still at large and highly dangerous. They are under suspicion.There have been rumours of a message left at the murder scene. Simply, "Run, Phoenix." This could refer to anyone, but the Independent has reason to believe it refers to one man – Phoenix Wright. He was the man to convict all of these criminals, and should the message be real – is in some trouble. All those who escaped in the breakout are under suspicion, but as they are still at large in the community, there is no concrete suspect. A local authority commented on this incident, "There's no evidence, pal! This could have been any nutcase. There's no evidence at all, pal, that these escapees are still in the area!" The Independent has reason to doubt this detective's claims, as there have been several sightings of the fugitives in the suburbs of the city. We have received simple instructions – pictures of the fugitives are overleaf, and should you see them, do not approach them! They may be armed, and are very dangerous. Call the police immediately, should you see a fugitive, and retreat from their immediate vicinity.

The moment Phoenix read the headline, he swore violently. He glanced at the picture – yes, it was Gramps, Old Beardy, Udgy… call him what you like. He was dead. There was a picture of the Judge in all his resplendent, grey glory – sitting at his bench, hammering away with his little gavel. He almost smiled at that picture, before taking a seat next to Maya. "Shit," he muttered, reading through the article hurriedly. He'd bet everything on the 'authority' being Gumshoe, however. He kept re-reading the headline, his eyes occasionally drifting to one of the names – Dee Vasquez - . She had been convicted in the Steel Samurai case and as such, had been waiting to be executed. But no. She had escaped. "Damn damn **damn,** Maya," he growled, glowering at her. "Why didn't you tell me?! This is important!"

"What's important?" a deep voice asked as Edgeworth emerged from the bedroom, pulling a shirt over his head. He shook out his head out, sending water flying everywhere. He snorted and made a face, then paused. "Hello," he greeted Maya tersely, before he saw the article. "What?" he exclaimed, eyes widening as he involuntarily took a step back. "No. This can't be right – "

"Quiet Edgeworth. I asked Maya a question." Phoenix butted in firmly, glaring at Edgeworth for a long moment. "Maya. Why didn't you tell me? If these people are all loose… I'm in serious danger, Maya!" he exclaimed, eyes lingering on the one message – "Run, Phoenix." Shit. He cradled his head in his hands, staring at the floor bleakly.

"I-" she began, looking up at Phoenix's ferocious glare. She could feel tears welling up – but she wouldn't let herself cry! No! She bit at her lip and glared right back up at him. Yet as he bowed his head, she sighed and looked downcast. "I was… upset," she murmured, to him. "When I saw you and Edgeworth. I had just gotten the warning from Gumshoe, and was coming to tell you, but when I saw you two…" she broke off, avoiding Edgeworth's eyes boring into her. She felt extremely foolish, beyond foolish. Idiotic, perhaps. Beyond idiotic. "Oh forget it!" she snapped and turned her attention to the newspaper, deliberately ignoring both of the men's stares.

Phoenix stared at Maya, eyes wide as he thought. He honestly had not thought of the ramifications the other day had had on her. Of course, she hadn't been at the trial yesterday, but perhaps there had been an incident up at Kurain…? He shook his head, a smile quirking his lips. He leant forwards, arching one eyebrow at her in a very Edgeworth-esque gesture. "You were what?" he paused, dramatic and feigning a look of surprise. Maya was refusing to look at him. "Jealous?"

"Jealous?!" Maya spluttered, head whipping around to glare at the defence attorney. "Why would I be jealous?" She snorted her contempt and snapped, "Don't be ridiculous, Nick," and turned back to the newspaper. Or at least tried to.

Phoenix grabbed her, cupping his hand under her jaw. That enigmatic smile still curved his lips, a wry little smirk. "Of course you were," he murmured, feeling completely out of character. The drummers competing in his head had seceded the stage to just one drummer, and as such – he was in a better mood. He leant a bit closer, then froze. A flash of magenta caught his eyes and a sharp "a-HEM" his ears, and he abruptly released her, looking a tad guilty.

Edgeworth was, of course, standing there looking completely bizarre in his stolen ensemble. He had no cravat to hide behind, nor a brash suit to fake his confidence. "If I'm not interrupting," he scowled, "I do believe we have a little bit of a problem, no?" He snorted at the pair and turned, stomping towards the fridge. Snagging a bottle of water, he stared out the window for a long, long moment. Snowy white oblivion. Eurgh. He wished he could have that cold solace. After that kiss last night, perhaps he had given into hope. But no. That jackass was flaunting himself in front of Edgeworth, with that Maya… Don't get him wrong – he rather liked Maya, were it not for that relentless exuberance and a terminal addiction to 'burgers. He poured himself a glass of water, hand shaking as he slopped the liquid all over the counter. Swearing, he mopped it up and turned, leaning against the counter. He could see a glimpse of the two, and heard the occasional word – mostly Phoenix being his alarmist self, and Maya … being Maya. Phoenix had no idea the trouble he was in, did he? Cradling the glass in his hands, he walked back to the living area and stood by the window, coldly staring at the two. "Wright," he suddenly interjected, "I do not think you appreciate the scale of this." While Phoenix sat there, looking shocked, a sudden beeping permeated the room. Edgeworth found his jacket, and dove into it for his mobile. As he poked it curiously, he suddenly snorted.

"Gumshoe wants to know if you are still alive." He commented wryly, wondering what on earth he could respond with. Something like 'no, I've skinned the two-faced bastard and am now wearing him as a coat'. That sounded tempting, but Phoenix's apartment would probably then be stormed. He was in disfavour enough with the precinct – rumours about forged evidence and bought alibis … - and perhaps an incident like that would not place him highly in either the Chief Prosecutors regard, nor the Chief of Police.

"Tell him I'm alive, thank you." Phoenix called out, head canting as he stared at Edgeworth. Perhaps the prosecutor was right – maybe he didn't quite grasp this situation. Hell, he knew Maya didn't. He groaned and shook his head, getting to his feet. "They're just out to intimidate me," he growled, stretching out and ignoring Maya. "If I stay here, cooped up at home, or – no! – go to some 'Witness protection scheme', they win. I can't just let this 'warning' affect my life like this. Plus," here he grinned cockily, glancing over at Edgeworth, "I have a trial against Edgeworth tomorrow, and another 'not guilty' verdict to clock up against him."

Edgeworth stared at Phoenix, eyes wide. "Are you insane, Wright?!" he demanded, slipping to the more formal 'Wright' in Maya's presence. He stepped forwards and grabbed Phoenix's upper arm, almost growling at him. "Remember just _who_ you have put in jail. Your first trail – Mr Sahwit. Innocuous, I suppose. Then Redd White. Dee Vasquez! Von Karma, that Acro fellow from the Big Top… The list goes on, Wright." He shook his head and released the man, storming away from him. That was none too effective, dressed as he was. "Look. One of them has been captured. Sahwit, I'll assume.. But Von Karma – he will stop at _nothing_, Wright. He is ruined already, and he has nothing to lose by tracking you down. Teamed with somelike like Vasquez, or hell – White." He paused here, staring at the pair. "The judge is already dead, Wright. You're next on their list."

Phoenix stared up into Edgeworth's face, frowning at the unfamiliar emotion that crossed the other man's face. Was that fear? He frowned, then nodded slowly as Edgeworth spoke. "You're assuming they are teaming up. To find me. But I'm not letting them affect me! I have a life to live, damnit. And I refuse to let a bunch of murdering scum scare me." As he said that, he suddenly blanched. It seemed as if the full import of what had happened was hitting him and he swayed. "God, Edgeworth," he muttered, ignoring the concerned spirit medium on his couch. "I'm dead."

--

End Note: This HTML editor is silly. The paper article looked a LOT better in MSWORD. Argh, why won't the HTML editor behaaaaave. Yes, I am ignoring Trials + Tribulations. I knooow, Judgy's still alive there. But it doesn't happen. No Apollo. I don't like Apollo anyway. You can tell I've just started the game. It annoys me.


	5. Chapter 5

A few hours had passed – busy, somewhat panicked hours

A/N:

…I totally meant Apollo Justice in my last note. Totally. XP

All right, so I'm playing Trials & Tribulations at the moment. Hm. So let's suppose that this happens between Justice for All and T&T. Plus, changing that would probably _completely_ screw things up. However much I want Kristoph to be in this fanfic, but considering he would have met Phoenix only at the _end_ of T&T. FAILSAUCE… -sigh- The Phoenix Wright universe needs a time machine.

I have discovered there is a direct linear correlation between review number and my rate of writing. XD Hence the quick update.

Oh, and you can credit Edgeworth's Three Facial Expressions™ to Nonedk.

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A few hours had passed – busy, somewhat panicked hours. At some point, Detective Gumshoe had shown up, presumably sent by the police department to check Phoenix was still alive, also in possession of Phoenix's briefcase. The still-alive Phoenix was of course, somewhat embarrassed. It had been turned in sometime that morning apparently untouched. The five – now including Pearly, after Maya fetched her – were arranged at various parts around the flat. Edgeworth had taken up his now customary position by the window, watching the scenery. The snow was fantastic, wasn't it? Gumshoe had taken a chair and was sitting on it backwards, staring at reports arranged on the coffee table. Phoenix was bustling around in the kitchen, while Maya was sitting on the couch, still white-faced. Pearly, oblivious to it all, was watching the television, giggling gleefully at the newest craze for children – the Diamond Samurai. The newest in a long chain of Samurai shows – hopefully, the star in this one wouldn't end up in scandal, like the Steel and Nickel Samurais. Of course, Maya was occasionally sneaking a glance – she hadn't quite grown up yet.

Phoenix grabbed the pot of coffee and some mugs – and of course, Edgeworth's precious tea – and brought them over to the low table, setting them down carefully. He poured a cup for himself, and then stood there, head bowed. He had yet to gel his hair, so as a result it was sort of … flopping around his face in a questionable manner. He brushed one hand through it, trying in vain to keep it out of his face.

"So we have ascertained I can go to court," he muttered, looking around his apartment wistfully, "But not stay here." He sounded somewhat unhappy, which was to be expected. "So," he started again, aggravation creeping into his voice. "I can go a public place. I can go, do my job." He paused again, head bowed and hair falling over his eyes. "But I can't stay in my own home. Or – " again a pause, for that wonderful dramatic effect. "I can't go to my own bloody offices!" He was positively enraged again and close to snarling at those gathered. He glanced down at Pearls, but thankfully she was engrossed in the Diamond Samurai.

"Sorry, pal," Gumshoe muttered, seeming engrossed in the mug shots of the fugitives. Only one was marked as 'captured' – Frank Sahwit. It was to be expected, honestly. The man was incompetent. "Look, Wright," said Gumshoe with unusual voracity. "We've been over this. These people are loose. There is evidence – _evidence! _– that they are, well, not too happy with you, Pal." He sighed and leant forwards, stabbing his finger on Dee Vasquez's mug shot, stunning as ever. "The wardens found stuff she'd written. Violent, and used the word 'death' a lot. It's not looking good, Wright."

Phoenix grumbled and turned to Edgeworth, face suddenly becoming plaintive. "Edgeworth!" he pleaded, watching the impassive face. "Tell them. I'm at no danger here! I doubt any of them know where I live, much less work…" he trailed off.

"Wright," Edgeworth said, with his wonderfully long-suffering voice. "Don't be stupid." That was the best he could come up with at the moment – he needed his magenta suit to really get his insults going. "We've been over this countless times." He stepped towards the table, leaning down to peruse the pictures. "They are loose. There is evidence that you were their number two target – well," here he paused, glancing at the headline. "Number one target, now. There is a warning in the paper." He shook his head and sighed, thinking. What a fool. His life was clearly in danger, and he was arguing to stay – stay here?! Grubby little place. He dropped into the armchair and leant to take his cup of tea. Looking up at the stricken attorney, he snorted. "Think logically, Wright. How many Phoenix Wright's are there in the city? How many 'Wright & Co. Law Offices', hmm? Give them ten minutes and a directory. These people are smart."

"Yeah, Nick," Maya interjected, leaning forwards to strengthen her point. "How many times are you mentioned in the paper or something? You're talked about every time you win a case!" She smirked and leant back, arms over her chest. "You're popular."

Phoenix cradled his head in his hands, groaning to himself. His hair flopping everywhere, he peeked up and positively _glowered._ "Fine," he conceded grudgingly, refusing to look at them properly. "I'll go along with what you want." He emerged from behind his hair and sipped the coffee, before looking around. "Find me somewhere to stay, and I'll go with the plan." He almost grinned at their expressions. Fantastic. Now they would all scurry around, trying to decide something…

Edgeworth looked down on those gathered; their faces were priceless. Gumshoe was not about to share his apartment with that defence lawyer, and he doubted Maya had the space. Or the confidence. He tried not to grin, knowing the only recourse left. Of course it was only a minor triumph, but a triumph it certainly was. You see, Edgeworth was waging some kind of personal battle against Maya – for dear Phoenix, of course! Poor attorney had no idea what was going on, did he? Erasing all expression from his face, he attempted a sigh and looked down at the lawyer. "Well, Wright," he started, doing his utmost to keep his little 'tough guy' act on. "Someone's in a little trouble." He watched the other's stricken face and almost laughed, yet restrained himself well. "I have a spare room," insert fantastically dramatic sigh, oozing with woe, "I suppose you could stay with me. But!" he glared down at the others, "Only until these 'fugitives' are apprehended." Wonderfully played, Edgeworth.

"That's settled, then," Gumshoe grinned and got to his feet, stuffing his hands into his battered old trench coat. "Mr. Edgeworth's place is a lot safer than here, pal, and he is very close to the department." He paused here, to stare at a piece of paper he had retrieved from his coat. "The Chief wants me to tell you they'll be assigning a security detail to wherever you stay. Edgeworth's, I guess." He grinned broadly, glancing over at the prosecutor. "Enjoy." He grinned and turned his back, sweeping from the room. His dramatic exit was somewhat foiled by the detective tripping over the trailing edge of his coat and falling out of the door.

Pearly giggled, the Diamond Samurai having just ended. "Scruffy Detective!" she exclaimed in a sudden burst of glee, grinning broadly. She got up from her seat, where she had ensconced herself in a veritable hoard of cushions and blankets – she got cold quickly – and positively pranced to Phoenix. "Mister Nick!" she exclaimed, worry etched on her young face, "What was that about those bad men?"

_Damnit, she really was listening…_ Phoenix grimaced and looked into that young face, her enormously innocent brown eyes. "Don't worry, Pearls," he muttered, glancing up at Edgeworth. "They don't mean any harm."

She suddenly frowned up at him, fists on her hips as she gave him her best 'angry 9 year old' glare. "I heard you guys," she retorted petulantly, pouting up at him. She then put on her best smile, "Why don't you stay with your beloved Mystic Maya?" She batted her eyelashes up at him, trying her best to persuade him. "Aren't you her 'special someone'?"

Maya blushed furiously and leant over trying to snag the little girl. She dodged away from Maya's grasping hands and giggled again. Maya ducked her head and sat back upright, almost glaring at the girl. "Pearly," she groaned plaintively, shaking her head at the grinning girl. "We don't have the space!" she excused, frowning almost. "Plus, he's already decided to stay with Edgeworth."

"What, Mr. Grumpy?" Pearly frowned and peered up at Edgeworth, snorting at him. "He's no fun," she muttered and, finally acquiescing to Maya's unspoken plea, turned around and plopped back onto her mountain of soft furnishings. Time for another episode of The Diamond Samurai? The irritating theme song signified it was so, as the main character whirled onto the screen.

It was so hard not to laugh, it really was. Edgeworth's face was fantastic – he was not used to being addressed by small children, much less being called 'Mr. Grumpy'. Phoenix suppressed his mirth and stared up at the perplexed prosecutor. "Well, Grumpy," he started, grinning broadly. "Seems like a good idea, then. I don't get killed, and you have my wonderful presence for a while. It's a win-win situation then." He got to his feet and ambled off towards his bedroom, calling out "I'll just get my things then."

Edgeworth stood there, mouth agape as Phoenix ambled off. The only retort he could think of was; "I'm not Mr. Grumpy!" he called out petulantly, then glanced at Maya in helpless consternation. "I'm not grumpy…" he trailed off, "Am I?"

"Oh, of course not," Maya responded, a false grin on her face. She ignored Pearly's interjection of "Are too!" and continued, getting to her feet. "Well," she looked up at him, "Not all the time. Just in court, and whenever we see you and…" she wandered off, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you are grumpy." She suddenly paused and stared at her stomach, then, "Niiiiiick! Can we go for burgers? I'm hungry!"

"Ask Mr Grumpy!" he called out, emerging some moments later with a rucksack slung over his back, presumably stuffed with clothing and other items. In another smaller bag, he carried Edgeworth's –Mr Grumpy's – magenta suit. Tossing the bag to Edgeworth, he arched one eyebrow. "Well?" he asked, tilting his head to one side. "Can we?"

Edgeworth caught the bag deftly, peeking inside at his desecrated suit. Horrendous. He had to make do with these… sweatpants. He made a face, then nodded slowly and sighed. "I suppose," he muttered, turning to grab his suit jacket. It may look ridiculous, but damnit, it was cold outside. "Come on then." He grumbled at them, leading the way from the apartment.

Phoenix stopped a moment outside of his door, locked it and leant against his door. He bit his lip and sighed, before righting himself and trailing after the others. It was difficult, locking up his apartment. He had no idea when he would return, or – he paused in his trail of thoughts, gulping – if he even would return. Escaping from those dismal thoughts, he caught up with the trio and affected a lopsided grin.

"I know this great burger joint, near where Pearly and I live…"

It was a stuffed Phoenix that slid into the passenger's seat of Edgeworth's car, watching Maya and Pearly's retreating backs as they entered their apartment building. He offered Pearly a little wave as she turned to wave hugely at him. He grinned at her expression, then leant back in the passenger seat, watching Edgeworth get in and start the car. As usual, there was the typical awkward silence that characterised their interactions – or rather, lack thereof. However, Phoenix decided to break that silence. As Edgeworth reversed out of the parking lot, he glanced up at the prosecutor, "Thanks, Edgeworth," he murmured, offering him a wan smile.

"I'm not doing it for you," the prosecutor retorted sharply as he accelerated. However, that sounded a bit harsh, didn't it? He snorted and mentally rebuked himself for that comment – he had to be harsh with Phoenix. The man was intolerable! Well, not intolerable. Perhaps irresistible was the word he was searching for? "After all, if you get yourself killed…" he trailed off as he cornered, "What defence lawyer is good enough to battle me?"

"Why, Mr Grumpy!" Phoenix exclaimed with a broad grin, "that almost sounded like a compliment." Snickering, he _almost_ put his feet up on the car, and then thought the better of it – Edgeworth was scary! Phoenix wasn't that brave. "Admit it. I'm not that bad, am I?"

No, he wasn't. He really wasn't. And that was the main problem. As tempted as Edgeworth was to voice his thoughts, he just snorted and stared straight in front of him. "I told you not to call me Mr Grumpy," was his sole answer, in a voice that sounded almost childishly petulant. "I'm not grumpy!" he barked. Seeing the long, straight road in front of him, he grinned and accelerated. One wouldn't think this uptight prosecutor would break the law, now would he?

"Oh of course not! You're not grumpy _at all_, Edgy, are you?" Phoenix almost laughed at this point, then eyed the speedometer. Oh my. "Didn't know you were one for speeding, Edgy," he muttered, glancing up at the other's ferociously intent face.

"Edgy is just as bad, Phoenix. Or should I say – Feenie, hm?" He risked a glance at Phoenix and laughed – actually laughed! – at his expression. He took the hint and began slowing down with a grimace. He actually enjoyed the speeding, though.

"Feenie," Phoenix murmured, "Never thought I'd hear that again." He stared out through the windshield, at the snow-blanketed city, and grimaced. "Perhaps…" he paused to glance sideways, "That is not the best nickname." No, he wouldn't forget Dahlia. After all, how could he? She had been the 'love of his life', however ridiculous it sounded, to apply that moniker to the foul harridan. With a long sigh, he cast another glance at Edgeworth. He had no idea the memories he had evoked with one little nickname, did he? Pity. That incident was so long ago and he had tried his best to bury that siren under a mountain of memories. Damnit, Edgeworth…

The prosecutor frowned at Phoenix's response. Despite his reputation as a 'demon', he did have emotions (and expressions) other than victorious, angry, and Angsty McAngstpants. He focused on driving, wondering. Should he apologise? He didn't know the man still regretted that one relationship; Dahlia was a bit… "I'm sorry," he muttered, almost too soft for Phoenix to hear. Those weren't words he was accustomed to saying too often. "I didn't realise you still…" he trailed off, awkwardly, as he pulled into his road, and into the underground parking lot. He reversed into his space and disengaged the ignition.

"No, no," Phoenix murmured, somewhat taken aback by the apology, but not enough of an ass to mention it. "How would you have known?" He half-grinned, grabbing his bag and briefcase from the bag and almost fell out of the car. "Come on Grumpy. Show me your place." Nah, he had to kill those memories. Best way.

Edgeworth was somewhat stunned, but merely shrugged and slipped from his car. Gathering up his own belongings, he nodded and stalked off towards the elevator. Of course, it was none too impressive in a pair of sweats, a shirt, and a mismatched coat jacket. He was aware of Phoenix trailing him slowly, eyeing all the flashy cars, and hid a little smirk. Fantastic. Quite a few prosecutors lived in this building, as it was so conveniently close to the police department. Fine, the prosecutors building was 30 minutes away, but the police… just that more interesting. And of course, they all had a tendency to flash. He stepped into the elevator and turned, beckoning Phoenix in. The man was busy peering at one ridiculously expensive car and promptly blushed, noticing Edgeworth.

"I'm beginning to think I chose the wrong career," Phoenix said as he got into the elevator, watching as Edgeworth pressed the top button. He grinned and looked up at the prosecutor, noticing his expression. Truth be told, prosecutors probably didn't have problems getting their bills paid.

"Don't be swayed by all the money," the prosecutor muttered, shaking his head. "It's not a dream job. You remember," here he broke off as the elevator dinged, and the doors swooshed open. "My – uh, trial a few years ago? That man – " it was clear whom he was talking about "Made me into a prosecutor. Hell, my _guilt_ made me into a prosecutor. Were my father still alive," he exited the elevator, not waiting to see if Phoenix was following, "I would be a defence attorney."

"And I wouldn't," retorted Phoenix, following Edgeworth. "I've told you before, Edgeworth," he said, catching up to the long legged prosecutor, "You are the reason I went into law. I was so determined to meet you and find out what happened in 4th grade…" He grinned sheepishly, looking up at Edgeworth. The prosecutor was… unreadable. "I became a lawyer because of you, Edgy."

Edgeworth stopped at his door and glanced at Phoenix, considering what on earth he could say. "Don't be ridiculous," he said, fishing for his keys. He had them just a moment ago. "You would have become a lawyer anyway. It's destiny, isn't it? We would have met again." He ended with an odd little glint in his eyes, then unlocked his door and swung it open. He stepped inside and turned on the lights, used to the sight that rendered Phoenix somewhat shocked.

Phoenix halted as Edgeworth threw on the lights. Dear god, it was… shocking. Opulence was a key feature in this apartment. "I'm definitely changing careers," he breathed as he stepped into the hallway leading onto a living area. It just oozed wealth – rare woods and luxurious furnishings everywhere. He followed Edgeworth slowly, turning to take in all the sights. What sights they were. Enormous paintings and gilt frames, gold winked out of the occasional niche. And what was that? _Stairs?_ A two-storey apartment. Phoenix definitely chose the wrong career, screw justice and being fair to the little man. Suddenly, the scrabbling of claws on wood alerted him and he turned, to see this fluffy shape positively _careening_ down the hallway. He darted out of the dog's way and tried to hide behind Edgeworth, eyes wide. "What the hell…" he muttered.

Edgeworth began laughing as he leant down to scratch the dog behind one ear. "It's alright, Phoenix," he laughed, petting the dog. "This is Pesu, my dog. He won't harm you." The dog sniffed at Phoenix hiding behind Edgeworth, yipping inquisitively. The dog padded to him, sniffing and snuffling. "He's harmless," Edgeworth murmured then extricated himself from between the dog and Phoenix, grinning at the lawyer's discomfort.

Phoenix eyed the Shiba Inu cautiously, before extending a hand to ruffle the dog's ears. Cute dog, he supposed. He just didn't picture Edgeworth as a dog person – he always had meticulous suits and seemed generally fastidious. Phoenix tended to picture Edgeworth as the type of man to sit in a large armchair, stroking a fluffy white cat and occasionally cackling. What a ruined illusion. With a grin, he settled down to the floor, cuddling the friendly dog.

"See?" Edgeworth queried, smirking at the sight of his 'rival' and his dog playing on the floor. Cute, no? He strode into his office and grabbed a sheaf of papers, perusing through them momentarily. Seemed like he was the only person to prepare for tomorrow's trial… He smirked again and glanced out into the living area, at the sight of Wright and Pesu. He leant against the doorframe and smiled, arms crossed over his chest. It was quite a sight, no? Pity he didn't have a camera at hand, but he supposed a memory would do him wonderfully.

"Phoenix," he called out softly, not really wanting to interrupt the scene before him. The two most preci- he stopped himself mid-thought, not really wanting to continue with that. No, definitely halt that train of thought, it could end rather abysmally. Or with him and a large bottle of scotch having a little rendezvous. Were it not so late, and the two having a court case tomorrow… he sighed and nodded, stepping towards the defence attorney. "Come on, I'll show you your room."

Phoenix nodded and, giving the dog a final scratch, got to his feet and retrieved his backpack and briefcase. He'd been meaning to re-read the court record; perhaps he could do that before bed. He gave the suddenly melancholy-looking Edgeworth a smile. "Lead on, Edgy." He followed the oddly dressed Edgeworth up the flight of stairs, pausing occasionally to look at something intriguing, or a pretty piece of art. When Edgeworth stopped besides a closed door, he arched one eyebrow. "Is this it?" he asked, as Edgeworth turned the handle and flicked on the lights. The room looked larger than his _apartment_! He breathed a little gasp of wonder and, grinning like a little child, projected himself onto the bed. Ooh, soft.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," the imposing man muttered, going to close the door. Perhaps it wasn't too late for him and a bottle of scotch. Always make time for your friends, no? Certainly a dear friend to him. He turned and stepped from the room, yet stopped when a voice reached his ears.

"Wait, Edgy," Phoenix called out, looking up at him plaintively. As Edgeworth re-entered the room, he made a face and leant back on the bed. He patted the covers next to him while starting to speak. "Edgy," he began, a tint of worry entering his voice. As Edgeworth walked over and took a seat beside him, Phoenix continued. "Aren't you…" he trailed off and turned his head to stare at Edgeworth, frowning. "Aren't you scared too?" he asked plaintively, biting at his lower lip.

Goddamnit Phoenix, don't make that face… Edgeworth sighed, but not for the reason Phoenix assumed. It was wonderful how quickly Phoenix had fallen back into this 'friend' rut, after being scared _witless_ this morning, but… eurgh. He made a noise of disgust at himself, then "No." A monosyllabic answer was perfect; it couldn't convey anything he didn't wish to say.

"You aren't?" Phoenix made a face at his own little foibles and resumed staring at the ceiling. "But what about von Karma? Or …" he paused here, to take a deep breath and shift onto his side, "Damon Gant. Both of them are loose, and …" again he trailed off, uncertain of what to say. He didn't want to give voice to the possibilities, or even lend weight to the fact they were alive. It was terrifying enough.

"Von Karma was a bastard, Phoenix. You saw him. He stopped at nothing to crush me, and through me, the memory of my father. But I don't think –" he halted, staring at Phoenix's expression. He smiled slightly, then rolled his eyes. He was being too sentimental. "I can handle myself, Phoenix. Von Karma is a cheating foul little bastard, but if I know him, he wouldn't _deign_ to try to kill me himself. He would use some other agent, I don't know. Someone like De Shelly. As for Gant…" he broke off and almost laughed, "Hell, the man's in his late 60's."

"But Edgy," Phoenix interjected, "The man was _huge_. He was the Police Chief." He watched Edgeworth, looking for any kind of reaction. Damn, the man like stone. "I'd be terrified, Edgy."

"You're not helping anything, Phoenix," Edgeworth retorted, snorting at the other man. His hair was falling right over his face, that odd peaked fringe flopping everywhere. "I'm not the one at risk here." As much as he didn't like admitting it, "You are. But don't be scared," he gave Phoenix a little smile, "Gumshoe said something about a police detail around the apartment."

"Because Gumshoe is so trustworthy, isn't he?"

"Be nice. He's handy at times. I mean you will have to restrict some activities until they are caught, such as trying to hit every bar in town and getting wonderfully drunk – "

"Hey, that was a one off!"

"Nonetheless. Then you don't get utterly smashed every night? What a pity. You were such a charming drunk." Edgeworth grinned and shook his head, rolling his eyes at the other man. "You know you can't go back to your apartment for a while. Your offices? Maybe. You can have Maya get all your clients, can't you?"

"What's the point of getting new clients if I can't get out to investigate?"

"…Phoenix?"

"Yeah?"

"Be quiet and stop whinging. You'll be fine." Edgeworth smiled at him, before sighing and turning onto his back. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, gritting his teeth. He did want to stay, but he knew if he did, he couldn't control himself. With an effort, he got from the bed and turned to look at the worried Phoenix. "Study that case. I'll be getting a guilty verdict tomorrow." With a smirk, he strode from the room and closed the door behind him. He leant against it for a long moment with his eyes closed, head tilted back. Goddamnit, Phoenix. Shaking his head, the prosecutor kicked his shoes off in his bedroom and padded downstairs to his predestined appointment with a lovely bottle of scotch. That was the one thing that understood him. The bottle of scotch and his dog.

Phoenix propped himself up on one elbow and watched Edgeworth close the door. He quirked a smile and almost got from the bed, but instead pulled his legs up underneath him and sat up. The man was right, he supposed. Phoenix did have a case to win tomorrow, and a decidedly **Not Guilty** verdict to obtain. But why…? He broke off and lunged across the bed to grab his briefcase and settled down to some hard perusal of the case file. Damnit, Phoenix, concentrate. So why did the image of a certain dark haired prosecutor leap into his mind unbidden?


	6. Chapter 6

His phone's insistent beeping woke Phoenix up from what had been a somewhat regrettable slumber

A/N: 'kay, some of the jokes in T&T are brilliant. 'No, Maya, that is SPARDA'. …lulz.

Sorry this took so long, xP. Obsessed slightly over finishing T&T. And now that it's done, I have no purpose in my life. Apollo Justice is just **fail**. Totally excited about 'Turnabout Prosecutor' or 'Perfect Prosecutor', whichever it is.

Another note: I suppose I'm branching out into a _bit _of T&T, insofar as Dahlia's existence and case 1. Hm.

--

A phone's insistent beeping woke Phoenix from what had been a somewhat regrettable slumber. Inconsistent sleep intermittently interjected with horrifying visions – he didn't care to remember them and would certainly concentrate on forgetting. All he had been left with was a worrying sense of dread, something inexplicable and ethereal. He groped at the bedside table, for a long moment ignoring the oddity of his surroundings. Grabbing the phone, he blearily stared at the display. 13 new messages. What…? Noting the time – 8.03AM – he scrolled through the messages. The first one was dated from early morning – "FROM: Dick Gumshoe. TIME: 4.53AM MSG: Sahwit has talked. Planning to hit apartment and offices earlier around 1AM. Too late to arrest/find anyone. All he's saying." He stared at the message, raising his eyebrows. Erk. Scrolling to the next, he mustered up a half smile , seeing Maya's name. "FROM: Maya TIME: 7.33AM" She was in the office early "MSG: Nick! I jst tried 2 check out ur office, it's trashed! Gumshoe said da same happnd 2 ur apartment. R U safe?!' The rest of the messages were all the same, from Maya. All as equally difficult to decipher, including her panicking and texting to see if he was fine – except for one last text from Gumshoe. Apparently, he had important information? Frowning, Phoenix doubted it and texted Maya with an assurance he was very much alive, and still at Edgeworth's, he would see her in court later. So with that, he threw back the duvet –and shivered at the sudden blast of cold air – and stepped out of the bed, reluctantly. It certainly was a lot more comfortable than his bed at home, and _shit he had gotten up rather late_. He was not the best thinker in the mornings. So he blitzed through his morning routine, almost ripping a seam as he hopped around pulling on his blue trousers. Damndamndamn, why hadn't Edgeworth woken him? Normally, he'd be well on his bike, probably cycling up that last pain in the ass hill before his office… Almost falling out of the door, he remembered to grab his briefcase – as well as the papers he had fallen asleep with – and staggered down the stairs, skidding into the main living area looking fantastically dishevelled.

Edgeworth looked up as Phoenix came sliding into the room. He probably should not have gotten the floor waxed the other day. It was quite amusing though. He treated Phoenix to his trademarked smirk, trying his utmost not to look too amused. "Good morning," he greeted the lawyer cordially, nodding as he raised his glass of orange juice. He was not dressed just yet – instead, he was breaking his fast in a magenta dressing gown, with M.E embroidered on the breast in a dark plum. It was a mind-boggling sight, especially for one defence lawyer who was still without his morning coffee. Edgeworth glanced down at his dressing gown and shook his head. Perhaps he hadn't thought before rising this morning. "Come on, Phoenix," he muttered, taking a sip of his juice. "A hungry defence lawyer is a losing defence lawyer. Not," he paused to look up at the attorney, "that it'll make a difference." Pesu was curled up by Edgeworth's chair, staring up at his master and desperately hoping for at least a crust, or something like it. The dog whined and Edgeworth stretched out a hand to ruffle his ears. By now he had reverted to what he was doing – reading the paper. "Gumshoe called," he said suddenly, not looking up from whatever fascinating section of the newspaper he was reading – it looked like the business section. "He said they're trying to cover up the incident at your home and office last night, but it is not going well. Also," here he paused, to look back up at the defence lawyer, who had placed his briefcase down by now and was approaching the table, "He has some information. A new threat or two I would presume. Some other escapees want to kill you, I'd suppose." He returned to his breakfast and to the most vital part of his morning with a drawn out sigh. Tea.

For a long moment, Phoenix was somewhat entranced by the sight of morning Edgeworth. A dressing gown? He goggled at the man, one eyebrow arched as he stared at the smooth magenta dressing gown. And it even had his initials on it. He really did enjoy magenta, didn't he? Pink by any other name would still be pink. He approached the table and the place that had been set for him – presumably by some staff? Who knew what Edgeworth blew his money on – and stared. Even coffee had been set out. _Fantastic,_ he remarked, with his typical 'I've just woken up and have yet to start brain functions' morning humour. Also known as none too fantastic. He poured himself a cup and glanced over at Edgeworth. "Yeah, Maya texted me about the 'incidents' last night." He grimaced and glanced at the underside of the paper, "At least I'm not in the paper." That was somewhat of a relief he noted as he sipped the coffee. He then grabbed a slice of toast and nibbled on it, not much of a morning eater.

"The day's young, Phoenix. Considering when these incidents happened, I wouldn't be too surprised to see you in the evening editions, or tomorrows front page." Ah, little did the prosecutor know. Edgeworth flicked over a page and made a disapproving sound, having another sip of his tea. His morning elixir. He really did depend on this tea.

"Er," Phoenix started, glancing at his watch. 8.27. He'd managed to get up, showered and dressed in 20 minutes. That was fairly impressive, no?. "Don't you think we should get going…?" He inadvertently spread crumbs everywhere, at which Edgeworth cast a disapproving glance. Phoenix set about removing said crumbs under the prosecutor's watchful eye. Clean freak.

"Hardly," Edgeworth retorted, watching the lawyer trying to retrieve aforementioned crumbs. "I cannot leave you here, nor can I take you to the prosecutors offices. Fraternising with the enemy and such. Oh the rumours that would run through the department…" he almost smiled, an expression which degraded into the all-too familiar smirk. "I've had enough rumours, thank you." Not just the typical forging evidence and bribery rumours. Hell, those were commonplace and to be expected. No, there were new ones. Well, not new ones, but speculation about his love life. He snorted, remembering one particularly potent rumour that had circulated years ago – him and Lana Skye sleeping together. Apparently that had been the reason for his rapid promotion? Of course, she had been an attractive woman, but he certainly hadn't slept with her. He shook his head and cast his eyes up to the mantelpiece, where somehow, despite it being hidden numerous times, his King of Prosecutors award had somehow taken pride of place. "So I thought a little sleep would be good for a change." Never mind he had only gotten to sleep a scant few hours before, and was being plagued by a relentless headache. Mustn't let Mr. Lawyer here discover _why_ he had spent quite a lot of last night abusing his liver. After all, he was Mr. Grumpy, no?

"I suppose you're right," Phoenix conceded grudgingly, having gathered up all the crumbs, and Edgeworth's Evil Eye being removed. This coffee was rather wonderful this morning, far superior to his own cheaper instant coffee. "Curious about the new judge?" Phoenix murmured, a faint smile on his face. Maybe this judge wouldn't be bullied by Edgeworth. Then again, would Phoenix's trick of bluffing and badgering work? Hopefully. It hadn't let him down yet, had it? Well, except for the day before… he grimaced at that thought, shaking his head. Amelie's verdict had shaken him. Hard. But of course, there was no way he could have gotten her acquitted. Hell, even he didn't believe her plea of 'not guilty'. It was pitiful, really. Even her own lawyer didn't believe her. He dropped his head, staring at the half-eaten toast with narrow eyes. Damn. Today would go better. It _had_ to go better, didn't it? Never mind he had so little time to prepare – he was willing to bet Edgeworth was the same. Although judging by those monumental bags under his eyes, and a remarkably pale –well, paler- face, he had stayed up most, if not all the night.

"Curious? I suppose so," Edgeworth grudgingly remarked, through his tea. It seemed like the teacup was _glued_ to his lips. "One judge is like the other. It is a shame the Judge died, though. His funeral is in a few days." His eyes flickered up to Phoenix, took in the bowed head and the expression, then nodded slowly. He folded the paper and put it to one side. It was a load of rubbish, mostly. "Thinking of yesterday's trial?" He almost snorted, yet halted himself at Phoenix's expression. "It does you little good to dwell on the past."

"A little," Phoenix conceded, gulping down his coffee and looking up at Edgeworth. "The trial was over ridiculously quickly. Could guilt have been established in a day and a bit?" As to the judge comment, he almost smiled. "Except this judge probably won't know you. And you won't have him so easily… manipulated, hm?"

"Manipulated?" Edgeworth spluttered, placing the delicate china cup down. "I'll have you know – " he paused at Phoenix's mocking grin and narrowed his eyes in a baleful stare. The man had been baiting him. With a grumble, he pushed back his chair and got up, brushing down his magenta dressing gown. Was that… a hint of frill coming from one cuff?! "Trials are usually conducted in that time, yes. Apart from our extended bouts. There was ample time to prove guilt, which I did." He pushed in the chair and looked down at Phoenix. "If you're still concerned, her case will be going to an Appeals court for sentencing. If they have any doubts…" He snorted at the very idea and turned, walking off to presumably get dressed. "She was guilty, Phoenix. It was bound to happen. Another case you just couldn't win." And with that, he disappeared upstairs.

Phoenix merely stared at the retreating figure, shocked as to what to say. Was that Edgeworth's way of consoling him? He supposed the man wasn't too good with this whole 'emotion' thing. It required glands, and robotic Edgeworth didn't have much truck with glands. He snorted and turned, eyes narrowing. Bloody, cold, arrogant, smug man. Man? Robot. Shaking his head, he downed the coffee and placed the delicate mug down. Perhaps it was time to review the case _one more time_. That would take his mind off the infatuating – no, insufferable man. With a growl, he appropriated his briefcase and drawing out a few papers. He scanned the evidence list with a long sigh. As usual, all the signs pointed towards this client being guilty. Why did he always get the impossible cases? Although he supposed, and here enters egotistical Phoenix, it was perhaps a mark of confidence? He shook his head and perused the papers for what felt an impossibly long time until the immaculately attired Edgeworth slunk down the stairs, Pesu at heel.

"Coming, Wright? I cannot beat you unless you are actually at the trial today." Well, he could. The defence's simple absence would result in quite a bit of disaster, but he had his duty. To mock and deride Phoenix! The prosecutor disappeared for a few moments into a dark office, emerging with briefcase in tow. Shockingly, it wasn't magenta, although Phoenix wouldn't be surprised if it were lined with magenta silk.

Phoenix's head shot up and he hastily stuffed the papers in his own rather raggedy briefcase, standing up to brush down his clothing. He grinned and shook his head, "You couldn't beat me even if I were absent." Noticing the lack of an answer, he followed Edgeworth down, until they reached the car. He got in the passenger's side, clutching his tattered briefcase to his chest. Was he nervous about today? Of course. Fantastically, absurdly, disastrously nervous, for no discernible reason. Usually, he tried to keep his calm, but something about today's trial freaked him. Perhaps it was that he had _no_ time to prepare, or even meet with his client. As the car exited the garage, his phone started ringing with that bloody Steel Samurai ring tone Maya had put on. He still couldn't figure out how to get rid of the bloody thing. The display showed a name – Maya – and he grinned, answering the phone.  
"Phoenix Wright," he answered in lieu of a greeting. "Yes Maya, I'm still alive. I'm in Edgeworth's car," long pause while Maya rambled frantically. "I know. I heard about the incidents. Gumshoe texted me. I know, I know." He rolled his eyes as Maya chattered on again, glancing over at the smirking Edgeworth. "Look, Maya. The insurance _should_ cover it. Once everything's over, we can re-model my offices. And hell, my flat needed some cleaning." He grinned at that comment, then sighed as once again, the inimitable Maya blathered on about something. "I've done some reading on today's trial, yes. I'd talk more, but," he paused to look over at Edgeworth and grinned broadly, "Our opponent is in the car. Can't be giving away trade secrets, can we?"

"Trade secrets?" Edgeworth retorted, loud enough to be heard by Maya. "Your bluffing and badgering isn't a secret, Phoenix. I'd say it's pretty damn obvious."

"Maya says be quiet, Edgeworth," Phoenix snapped, -well, she had said something a tad more vicious than 'be quiet', before turning his full attention to the phone. "No, I don't know who the judge is… I doubt the old Judge had a twin brother, Maya… Maya? I'll be at the courthouse soon. We can talk then. Hang on, what? No, you cannot get a burger before the trial. We'll… fine. Fine! If it'll keep you quiet, then go ahead." He hung up the phone before Maya had a chance to argue, and put it on silent, hiding it away in a jacket pocket. He'd worry about that once they got to the courthouse – both Maya, and his client. The latter more than the former of course, although the former certainly caused him more troubles. Edgeworth certainly wouldn't help with either, nor would Phoenix have the sheer gall to talk with the aforementioned Prosecutor about said worries.

The pair pulled up in the parking lot outside the District courthouse, where Edgeworth removed the keys and glanced at Phoenix. He arched one eyebrow and had an expectant look. The pair stared at each other for a few moments before the prosecutor spoke up. "Well, Wright?" he demanded, rather liking the alliteration. "Are you going to get out? We can hardly _walk in_ together." He smirked at the mental image and rolled his eyes at Phoenix. "Out." He barked as he watched the defence lawyer exit with no protest – as surprising as that was –, staring after him as he walked off. Were his head not pounding so raucously, he would allow himself to drift into that horrendous mental process that would lead into eventual emotional apathy. Granted, he was already – to a degree – emotionally apathetic and cauterised. No, he was not in the mood to delve into that maelstrom of self-pitying wallowing thought, he couldn't let the porcupine headed lawyer affect him today. Allowing Phoenix sufficient time to enter the building, he too finally left the car and walked into the court lobby, readying himself for a battle.

Phoenix steeled himself as he walked into the lobby, ignoring with dispassionate glances the few press that had gathered. Light bulbs flashed in his face and he squinted, looking through the blaze to the defendant's lobby. Ah, his own sanctuary. He pushed the door open and, glancing over his shoulder, very firmly shut it behind him with a slight smirk marring that face. He took in the sights; his client looking worried, and Maya hastily licking her fingers and hiding a burger box guiltily. And of course, the bailiffs standing by the doors.

"Roger," he began, greeting his client with a nod. "Good to see you again." He shook his hand firmly, before stuffing his hands back in his pockets. "Don't worry," he gifted his client with a smile and ducked his head, glancing over furtively at Maya. "I have a plan." He then grinned and looked up as a pair of bailiffs came over, to take his client. "Stay calm. I'll get you out." As he was led away, Phoenix nodded and turned to Maya. With a sigh, he dropped his briefcase and cradled his head.

"Maya," he groaned, voice almost taking on a whinge as he started, "This isn't going to go well." He grimaced and shook his head, looking down at the spirit medium.

"Nick," Maya grinned, peering up at the lawyer. She wiped her hands together, nodding cheerily. "You'll do fine. Amelie was… a fluke. Plus, I hope you sabotaged Edgeworth last night!" She exclaimed the last with an enormous grin then grabbed his briefcase and handed it up to him. "You know, screwed around with his papers. Or screwed around with…" she trailed off, a wicked glint in her eyes. It was always 'Tease Nick' time in Maya's world.

"Maya!" he scolded, almost blushing. _Almost_ blushing, but not quite. Her little insinuation hadn't _completely _escaped him. His hand clasped the worn leather handle and he took a deep inhalation. "Go in. I'll be in the courtroom in a moment. After I compose myself." At her nod, he watched as the petite girl walked through the impressively large doors into the courtroom. He stood there for a long moment, staring at those doors. If he went through them… he shuddered then braced himself and took a step forwards, eyes fixated on the doors.

Pity he had been staring at those doors so intently – were he more alert, he could have noticed one of the bailiffs reaching for his gun and in a fluid moment, raising it up to shoot Phoenix. The gun dropped to the ground as the criminal ran, only to be tackled by the other bailiff. The hat flew off as the bailiff fell to the ground, and revealed the face of Redd White contorted in anger as he struggled with the other bailiff.

Phoenix fell to the ground as the bullet planted itself in his chest, missing his heart by a tiny margin. He lay sprawled on the marble floor, watching as the ceiling grew ever darker and further away. The one thing he could really think of; what would happen to his client? He was unconscious by the time blood began to drip on the floor.

As a gunshot rang through the building, Edgeworth's head shot up. He glanced at Maya, on the other side of the courtroom, and almost ran from the prosecutor's bench and thrust the doors that led into the defendant's lobby wide open. He took in the scene, his face blanching; a stricken Phoenix lying on the ground and blood pouring from an open wound. A gun thrown across the lobby and a bailiff hunched over, blood seeping from a jagged cut. Edgeworth swore violently and grabbed his mobile, immediately calling for an ambulance.

Behind him, Maya staggered into the room a few breaths behind Edgeworth. She immediately ran to Phoenix as the prosecutor 'phoned an ambulance, coming to a halt beside him. He was unconscious, but she leant over, one hand on his face. "Nick," she murmured, trying so hard not to stare at the bullet wound. It was impossible to miss though – blood was seeping out steadily and turning his blue suit a dark crimson. Maya was not the best in emergencies as she stared at his ashen face, willing him to speak.

By this time, police –having heard the shots- had stormed into the room and were setting up a perimeter. The bailiff was receiving on-the-spot care, consisting of his upper arm being bandaged and a statement taken. Already the gun had been grabbed and placed in a plastic evidence bag, while the room was being searched for further evidence.

Edgeworth hung up the phone and took the few steps, crouching next to Maya. He stared at Phoenix critically, mentally cursing himself. He thought he would safe in the courthouse. _Damn,_ he thought, ducking his head and allowing the dark fringe to fall over his eyes. _I should have…_ he broke off and glanced up as another team stormed through the door, this time a medical team with a gurney. He grabbed Maya's upper arm and drew her back as the pair watched Phoenix be strapped onto the gurney.

"Can I come with…?" Maya uttered softly, trying to get towards Phoenix. She resisted Edgeworth's grip ferociously, turning to shoot a violent glare at the prosecutor.

"No ma'am," was the sole response, not even dignifying the two words with emotion, or a look up at Maya. Work was frantic as the medical team moved from the lobby, back through the press of media, light bulbs flashing everywhere as shots of the prone Phoenix were taken.

By then, the injured bailiff had disappeared, and Edgeworth and Maya were being shunted back into the courtroom. The courtroom was still, mercifully, judge-free and as such, one would assume proceedings were over for day, having never begun. The prosecutor walked to his stand, moving mechanically as his thoughts roiled.

_Damnit. I should have thought of this. Stubborn fool, always rushing in blindly…_ he then corrected himself with a snort. Not even he could have foreseen that the fugitives had the power – or the intelligence, although he should never underestimate a Von Karma – to infiltrate the security guards and pose as a bailiff. Security would certainly have to be tightened around here, although it was already too late. His head shot up as the doors to the judge's private chambers swung open, and a black-robed figure swept in imperiously.

"Sorry I'm late," a light voice called out as the figure ascended the dais onto the judge's bench. "Now, Prosecutor…" the judge's eyes dropped onto the files in front of her, and a slight smirk crossed her face. "Edgeworth, is it?"

Edgeworth nodded the affirmative as he stared at the judge in consternation. What on…? He certainly hadn't expected a judge this young – although he supposed anything was young in comparison to that decrepit fossil – and… female. Quite female. "Yes, Your Honour," he responded sternly, almost grumbling as he pulled the case file back out.

"Good." The judge looked up, adjusting her glasses on a pert nose. "The defence seems to be absent, however." She shook her head slowly and paused as a bailiff approached her and murmured a few words. "Shot?!" she exclaimed, glasses sliding down her nose. She rapidly readjusted them and shook her head. "Pity. I had hoped to meet the inestimable Wright. Now, Prosecutor," she turned to fix a steely gaze on Edgeworth, "I suppose this leaves us in a rather good position, doesn't it?" She glanced over the case file, perusing through the evidence.

Edgeworth frowned as he stared up at the judge, not entirely sure what to make of things. At least the old judge had a proper sense of _decorum!_ This – this woman! He scowled as she spoke to him, not entirely at ease with her being so – friendly? "Your Honour?" he asked in return, letting a note of inquisitiveness lilt his voice.

"Considering the defence seems to be absent, entirely of his own volition," Edgeworth almost protested, opening his mouth to shout a loud Objection! before she cannoned on, "The evidence seems fairly irrefutable, and all Mr. Wright would have done today is bluff and badger the witnesses into changing their testimony," Edgeworth had no real objection here – it was the truth, after all, "I must convict your witness, Mr Roger Libal, as guilty to the crime of murder. Bailiffs?" She paused to smile a sickly-sweet simpering smile, "Take the murderer away, will you?"

Edgeworth recoiled, physically taken aback by this verdict. What the hell had just happened? The damned woman talked too fast for him to even object! He scowled and stuffed papers hastily into his briefcase, in some small way relieved. With this case over, he could devote _all_ of his mental prowess to worrying hopelessly over Wright. The man _would_ get shot in the courtroom, wouldn't he? He supposed it was ironic, Edgeworth mused as he strode from the room, so embroiled in his thoughts he didn't hear the frantically yelling Maya, ironic that the man had been shot in the very place of law, no? He snorted and entered the lobby, pausing to eye the sheer mass of the press accosting any and every person that left. Dear god.

It was at that moment that Maya caught up to him, panting and sliding to a screeching halt as her flip flops fought for purchase on the polished marble. "Edgeworth!" she called out, grabbing at his upper arm with both hands. "Is Nick OK?!" she demanded, wide-eyed and frantic. "He can't be dead! He just can't be!" she wailed the last, eyes welling up until she finally burst into tears. She clutched his arm in a vice-like grip, sniffling as she sobbed.

Edgeworth stared at the _thing_ attached to his arm, a faint tinge of disgust crossing his face. He disdained physical contact, and here was Maya, almost_ plastering_ herself to him. "I don't know, Maya," he conceded, contemplating prodding her with something, "I just got out of the courtroom. I'm going to call the hospital in a moment." He eyed the frenetic surging of the media in front of him and made a face. "He'd better not be dead," the man muttered as, Maya in tow, he did his best to dodge around the outskirts of the flashing mob. Alas, he did not go entirely unnoticed.

"Prosecutor Edgeworth! Could you-"

"Mr Miles Edgeworth, were you at the scene of the-"

"Could you tell us what happened to-"

"Who were the men that attacked-"

"Did you see-"

"Phoenix Wright?"

"Phoenix Wright!"

It seemed like every question ended in that damnable man's name as Edgeworth scowled, pulling Maya with him as he shot a venom-laden "No comment!" at every journalist that _dared_ to speak to him. By the time he approached the door, his expression was so ferocious that few had the guts to even look at him. He stormed through the door and halted outside, staring at his mobile in consternation. He cast off the sobbing Maya and took a few steps away, dialling the number of the hospital Phoenix should have been taken to.

"I'm looking for a Phoenix Wright, he should have arrived there fairly recently."

"Yes, I'm a friend of his…" he sighed set down his briefcase, turning slightly to watch the bereft Maya.

"Yes, I'm sure he would have gone to your hospital."

"The bloody ambulance had St Mary's on it! I should bloody well think he went to your emergency room!"

"What do you mean _'am I sure?'_?! The man was _**shot!**_"

"Are you sure you don't have anyone under that name? Check again! I don't _care_ how busy you are. Check the god damn records!"

"…Fine. I'll try another hospital. Incompetent-" he was cut off and Edgeworth shut his phone harshly, snarling at the offending device. He must have misdialled. He dialled the number for St Mary's hospital again.

"Hello, I'm looking for – Oh. It's you." He paused as the nurse began ranting, and snorted. So obviously he hadn't misdialled. _Shit_. He cut her off mid-flow with an exclamation that she should stick her opinions somewhere anatomically improbable and hung up, turning to Maya. Should he tell her, or not? He decided for the former as he dialled Gumshoe's number.

"He's not at the hospital," he barked, both at Maya and Gumshoe, who had just picked up the phone.

Phoenix drifted in and out of consciousness, barely aware of the faces that were staring down at him. All he knew was a blinding pain in his chest, and the fact that he had left his client defenceless. Perhaps he should work on his priorities? He fought for consciousness for sometime, finally emerging from the depths of his mind to focus on the medical technicians staring down at him. Those faces looked very familiar, he mused through the pain that wracked him. Almost –

"Hello Phoenix," a dark voice murmured as a very familiar, very abhorrent face came into view. A flowery cravat spilled down from Von Karma's neck, having emerged from its containment of a medical costume.

"We've been waiting for you," another called out and Phoenix identified Dee Vasquez. The stench of cigarette smoke certainly hung in the air, and the dark women – ringed by two costumed mobsters – was smoking quite heavily.

"Those'll kill you," the Phoenix managed to croak, relying on his rather lacking wit to see him through yet another bleaker moment, though there were none bleaker.

"Phoenix," yet another voice reached him and the face of Acro suddenly popped into his field of vision. The man was standing – standing! – with the aid of a crutch.

And then the one voice he _certainly_ hadn't expected, one that reached into his memories – one in particular- and gave it a harsh little tug. That angelic voice that could charm the birds from their trees, the doll-like little face…

"Hello Feenie."


	7. Chapter 7

Edgeworth sunk into the sumptuous armchair mere moments after entering his apartment

A/N; Ah. Sorry this took so long, I started the chapter on April 14th, and have only just finished it… xP But yes, apologies. I went away for a week, and was studying before/completely _lost _the will to write. Ah well. It's not returned entirely, but we shall see.

Thanks for the reviews, though. xP

Oh, and I'm aware Gumshoe's not too in-character here. But I fail at Gumshoe characterisation xP.

Buuut yes, please everyone, continue to read and review XP. I adore critique, and there needs to be more nitpicking!

Edgeworth sunk into the sumptuous armchair mere moments after entering his apartment. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes fixed on the wooden floor. Very little had happened since it had been discovered that Phoenix had been abducted, save the frantic activities of the frankly useless police force. He could remember Maya's face when he told her; those large brown eyes filling up with yet more tears and a sudden blanching of her face. Despite his imagined 'rivalry' with her, he had tried to comfort the spirit medium to the best of his abilities. Granted, said abilities consisted of him gingerly patting her on the back, but it was the thought that counted, no?

The clicking of claws on wood alerted the prosecutor to the arrival of his big furry friend as Pesu padded from the kitchen where he had made his bed. The big dog snuffled as he entered the office – a place usually interdicted to him by Edgeworth – and approached his master, furry head canted to one side. The dog whined and plopped his head in Edgeworth's lap, ignoring the man's sounds of protests as the dog proceeded to ruin the trousers with a copious amount of saliva.

Edgeworth glanced down at the dog and scratched one ear half-heartedly. _Why did I force him out? _ He thought as he stared down at the dog who was trying his best to get more attention. Edgeworth bad begun to drift into the realms of self-pity; he was assured that Phoenix's abduction had been his fault. Never mind that Edgeworth could not have _possibly_ gone into the defendant's lobby without causing some stir, nor could he personally vet the bailiffs. Although there would certainly be a _reckoning_ with the security company. Affectionately pushing the dog away, Edgeworth got to his feet slowly and tiredly, glancing up at the clock in passing. 2AM. Fantastic.

The only real reason, Edgeworth contemplated as he moved from his personal office, he had been sent home was that he had apparently been 'getting in the way' of the police investigation. _Although_, he remarked with a snort of derisive laughter, _There wasn't much to get in the way of. Pesu could conduct the investigation better_. It rankled him that the only thing happening was an investigation. Did Phoenix not merit better? If Edgeworth had been in chance… he mused with a bit of a snort and paused for a long moment, staring at the dining room table with nostalgia evident in his eyes. That very morning, Phoenix had been breakfasting with him. He rested hands on the chair the man had sat in and stared at it bleakly.

He was numb as he paced up the stairs, dog following him happily and panting. He slunk into his bedroom, lost in the maze of thoughts as he changed into his pyjamas. He was still relentlessly blaming himself for letting Phoenix go.

"I should have been there," he muttered as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants, shaking his head. He realised, belatedly, that they were the pair he had borrowed from Phoenix. He bit at his lower lip and left his room silently, walking with silent footsteps. He paused before another door, barely aware of his mental processes as he opened the door into the room he had allocated to Phoenix. He stood in the doorway, staring at the room.

"He could have at least made the bed," Edgeworth grumbled as he twitched the bedding in place, and froze. He abruptly took a seat on the bed, looking around him at the room Phoenix had made his in so brief a space of time. With his innate ability to mess anything, he had left papers scattered here and there, as well as his nightclothes flung carelessly in a heap. It was all Phoenix – and it evoked such vivid memories of the man.

His first memory? That day of fourth grade when he had first met Larry and Phoenix, and been accepted as the mediator of sorts in their little group. Those days had been so brief, and yet an idyllic halcyon period. At least, it was wonderful in retrospect. He could still remember his fleeting annoyance at the Butz, and … here he paused, dredging up another memory he had once thought best left buried, a fierce desire to follow his father. And even that little 'mock trial' against Phoenix. He supposed that was where he truly struck up that bond with the boy. But those days had been so brief – it seemed like a flash of time and his father was dead. He was taken in by Manfred Von Karma, and his life changed irrevocably.

He got to his feet, rhythmically moving through the motions of tidying up the bedroom. He folded the clothing as he thought. Now that he was truly free of Von Karma's clutches – well, he wasn't free, was he? Von Karma was at large, and was holding the man Edgeworth held in high esteem –more than high esteem, but he refused to honestly say how he felt – hostage, or hell, even worse. Would he ever have the courage to turn defence lawyer? He quirked a smile wryly at that thought, sardonically mocking his own thoughts.

"And what? Set up in private practice with Wright and live happily ever after as one big family!" He grunted at his own folly and paused. Spying a bottle of the cologne Phoenix had a habit of wearing, he picked up the glass bottle with suddenly clumsy fingers. He misted a little onto his wrists and inhaled the scent, remorse tingeing his mind. He set the bottle down and absently wandered from the room, still holding his pale wrist up to breathe the scent that was, to him, quintessentially Phoenix.

As he slid into his bed, he groaned and set his head on his pillow. Tomorrow – or later today, rather – would be a difficult day. He would find Phoenix, never mind those incompetent _idiots_ at the precinct. It took Edgeworth some time to fall into the abyss of sleep, and when he did, it was plagued by awful dreams. One particularly strong dream was Von Karma standing over Phoenix's dead body, with that heartless smirk on his face and blood staining his besmirched cravat.

Edgeworth woke up in a cold sweat, awaking with a sudden fright. His eyes flickered to the alarm clock by his bed – 8AM – and he sighed, rolling over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling with a sinking sense of despondency, wallowing once again in self pity. But he couldn't allow himself to remain in that state – there was work to be done, and a certain spiky-haired lawyer to rescue. So he remained in that state for a few minutes, trying to shake his mind from that peculiar morning haze that fuddled it, before staggering from his bed, and towards his bathroom.

He performed his morning ablutions as quickly as possible and approached his closet, staring at the selection. Choosing a magenta suit, an ink-grey vest, a white shirt and his typical snowy white cravat, he dressed quickly and padded downstairs. He could think better on a full stomach. And so the prosecutor grabbed his phone, retrieving the morning's paper from where it had fallen on his mat. He padded towards the kitchen, paper tucked under his arm as he dialled Gumshoe's number. He set the kettle to boiling and laid the paper on the table, listening to the ringing of his phone.

"Yeah?" Gumshoe answered the phone, finally.

"Gumshoe," Edgeworth greeted, taking his cup of tea and blowing on the hot liquid. "It's Edgeworth," as if he needed to be identified. "Any leads about Wright?"

"Er…" Gumshoe trailed off, debating how to say 'no' in a tactful and intelligent manner. However, instead he digressed entirely; "Sir, have you looked at the papers this morning?"

"No," the prosecutor murmured as he took a sip of his tea and flipped the paper over to the cover. He almost sprayed the tea across the counter as he read the headline; "**TOP DEFENSE LAWYER SHOT AND ABDUCTED"**. Below was a picture of the prone Phoenix, face absurdly pale and a few specks of blood on his strong chin.

"Gumshoe," the prosecutor positively _purred,_ "What happened to – oh, what were my words…" he trailed off, voice deceptively soft as he scanned through the article. The usual sensationalist rubbish and speculation as to the perpetrators; the current guilty parties were apparently a big-time mafia family. "Ah, yes. To not let the media – by that, I meant people like this bloody newspaper – " his cool façade was beginning to crack, evident in his slip into crudity, "Find out he was abducted. Did I not say that?"

"No sir! I- I mean, yes sir. I mean, those were your orders," Gumshoe stammered, "That was what you told me. But sir - !"

Edgeworth cut him off with a snarl, lip curling as he seemingly threw caution and apparent apathetic attitude to the wind. "Yes. That was what I told you. So tell me, Gumshoe, how did this happen?" he broke off and shook his head. The damned incompetent detective probably knew nothing. "Forget it," he muttered, leafing through the next few pages lazily. "Any leads, Gumshoe?"

"None at all, Sir. CCTV cameras didn't clearly catch their faces, and they were very careful with covering up, and fibres, pal…"

Edgeworth drew one hand up, resting his forehead as he stared at the counter blankly. "The gun," he muttered, recalling the scene as he saw it; Phoenix prone, the bailiff and the imposter struggling, with the gun tossed across the room. "What about the gun? It was taken for testing, no? And what about the bailiff's wound – "

"Sorry, pal. The impostor had gloves on, so the gun had no prints. The knife wound is still being analysed, and the bailiff is supposed to have a full recovery."

The prosecutor shook his head and hung up, not even bothering with his typical curt dismissal of Gumshoe. He stared at the headline, the bold face print engraving itself on his mind's eye. As he shut his eyes, Phoenix's death-like face was the only image he could see. He could remember with such vivid clarity the crimson blood that marred the marble floor.

Bright lights pierced Phoenix's eyelids, the light stabbing into his eyes with such ferocity that the man shifted. Or tried to. He suddenly felt the straps restraining his torso and legs, and frowned, struggling against them. For the moment, the pain that surged through his chest was only fuel, until with such sudden clarity that threatened to overwhelm him, he remembered exactly _where _he was, and why he was so restricted. He let one eyelid open slowly and a too-familiar face popped into his field of vision. Opening both eyes fully, he stared in comprehension.

"Dollie?" he murmured softly, not entirely sure what was going on. The events of earlier and the pain had clouded his mind to the point of confusion. "What're you doing here?"

"Ah, Feenie," the dulcet voice murmured as a cooling hand laid itself on his chest. He could feel the soft fingertips trace a path from his right shoulder, winding it's way across his chest. He could feel her hand wipe away a few specks of dried blood, before coming perilously to – he gasped in pain as she laid a hand on his wound, eyes clenching shut and hot darts of pain lancing his body. "Oh no," she murmured as she heard his sudden intake of breath at the renewed pain, "Did I hurt my Feenie?" He could detect her smirk as she increased pressure on the wound, and he groaned in pain. Then more, and more, until Phoenix literally shrieked with pain, back arching as the throbbing sensation threatened to break him.

Suddenly it was released, and through fluttering eyes Phoenix could detect a few more faces. The sweet voice returned as that too-familiar wonderful smile lightened Dahlia's features again. "You know why you're here, Feenie," she trilled, leaning close to him and smiling delightfully.

Then another voice chimed in, low but smooth and distinctly feminine. "You put us away, Phoenix," this voice purred and a puff of cigarette smoke made the attorney cough.

"Wright," the third voice barked, the much-reviled Von Karma coming into view. "All of us have been in prison for quite some time." His face, partially disguised by an elaborately, ludicrously large cravat, was contorted with hatred. "And we've suffered."

"We did suffer, Wright," Vasquez interjected, ignoring Von Karma's sudden filthy glare. "I think it's time you understand just how much we suffered."

And then Von Karma butted back in with a snort and a sudden haughty laugh. "You have no idea how tough death row is, Mr Wright, do you? For one of my calibre," he broke off, head high as he smirked. "For once, I must agree with Ms Vasquez. You must be made to comprehend our experience. Not just yourself," he paused and shook his head, "Yourself and that impudent little brat. Miles Edgeworth."

At Edgeworth's name, Phoenix grimaced and tried to escape Karma's ferocious gaze. Bad enough he had gotten himself shot – but had he put Edgeworth in danger? He recalled the last glimpse he had of the magenta-suited prosecutor – sitting in that car, with his insufferable smirk and condescension positively _radiating_ from the man. It seemed only a few moments before a little laugh rang through the room – Dahlia's melodic chimes – before sudden pain lashed through his body. He snarled and writhed, before falling into wonderful, blessed unconsciousness.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring._

Edgeworth arched one eyebrow at his office phone, before reaching over to pick up the receiver with a long sigh. He had come into the offices that morning, battling through the mass of reporters that, for some ridiculously absurd reason, thought he was behind Phoenix's abduction. He snorted at that thought as he lifted the phone to his ear.

"Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth," he said curtly, staring at his computer monitor with dispassionate eyes. Gumshoe still had no news, and the media? Oh, they were having a field day.

"_Edgeworth,"_ an all-too familiar voice spoke, one that reminded him of a childhood he'd prefer to forget.

"Von Karma?" Letting a tinge of inquisitiveness enter his voice, the man frowned as he checked the handset. No, Von Karma had been clever enough to hide his number. Pity. Best to stay rational, though. Who knew what Von Karma was capable of – even if he was the culprit, the abductor whom had stolen Phoenix…

"_It's been a long time, Miles Edgeworth, hasn't it?"_ The voice was affable – rather, as friendly as such a man could humanly get.

Oh, screw rationality. "What have you done with him?!" Edgeworth snapped, eyes darting up to his doors where a worried-looking secretary was peering in. He glowered at her, watching as the girl, pale-faced, abruptly shut the door and assumedly scurried off.

"_You've cut to the chase as usual, Miles Edgeworth. Phoenix Wright is…" _the voice was abruptly cut off by a loud noise, and a muffled scream. There came Von Karma's light snickering, _"Alive. But, Miles Edgeworth, I can't promise he will remain so."_

Edgeworth blanched – if it was possible to become even paler – as he heard the muffled scream, eyes squeezing shut as he shuddered. "Von Karma," he began, voice a low snarl, "I will find you. And you will die, once I –"

"Ah, now see Mile, this is our problem. If I die, then so does your little Phoenix Wright. What I want is you. I am offering you a deal, so still that impetuous mouth and listen to me. I have something you want – Mr Phoenix Wright here, this delightful little lawyer – and you have something I want. You. So I'm offering you this; your life, in exchange for his. And Miles Edgeworth, don't even think about talking to your incompetent little 'pal'. Come alone, or he dies. This is what I offer."

It didn't even take a second for Edgeworth to think; impetuous mouth? He snorted at that and nodded slowly. He had never been impetuous. "Deal," he snapped, "When, and where?"

"Ah. Good, I was hoping you would see sense. Why should I take my grievances out on this little lawyer? Tomorrow night. That wonderful park by your offices, at 9 o'clock. I will say it again; if the police shows up, he will die. And not soon. Oh, definitely not quickly."

"I will see you tomorrow night then." With that, he hung up the phone and stared at his monitor, wondering what on earth he was thinking? Of course Phoenix meant the world to him – but could he really take such a monumental risk? That didn't bear thinking of! Of course he would. Of course. He had a few things to attend to – then, perhaps, enjoy this night.


	8. Chapter 8

Eyes adjusting to the gathering dark, Edgeworth leant against the car door, looking around the park

Eyes adjusting to the gathering dark, Edgeworth leant against the car door, looking around the park. He could see no one – not a trace of the kidnappers, nor his Phoenix Wright. Not a single trace. With a sigh, he put his hands in his pockets, feeling the comforting weight of a pistol in his pocket and glanced at the ground, letting the thrum of the car's engine lull him into a sort of somnolence. He hadn't slept much the night before; uncharacteristically, he had been worrying and fretting all night long. Not for his own safety – don't be absurd. Rather, hoping Phoenix was still alive. He knew Von Karma – hell, at times he had tried to _be _Von Karma – and the man was ruthless. Awful.

All of a sudden, he became aware of a few silent, shadowy shapes. Looking up, Edgeworth could see eight shapes – eight very indistinct, dark shapes. By the puff of smoke he could identify one as Dee Vasquez – and therefore the two ringing her the bodyguards – and one figure he couldn't properly identify. An angelic looking girl, twirling her parasol. She couldn't possibly be involved in such a heinous crime, now could she?

But wait! What was that? He could see another figure lurking in the gloom, something bent almost double and…

"Phoenix!" he exclaimed while taking an involuntary step forwards. He restrained himself from running to the injured man, but only just. He grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes, head low as he stared at the people arrayed before him.

"Edgy!" a convivial voice exclaimed and the impressively large shape of Damon Gant entered the light. A slight smile crossed his face as the former Chief of Police gave Edgeworth a little nod. "Been swimming recently, Edgy?" Gant grinned again, ignoring a scowling Von Karma behind him. It was clear who was in charge of this little band of misfits when Von Karma stepped forwards, shoving Gant aside.

"Miles Edgeworth," that voice oozed from the man, and a faint smirk crossed his face. One eyebrow arched as Von Karma took in the scene; "I told you to arrive alone, no? What's this … car doing here?"

Edgeworth stood up, throwing back his shoulders as he stared at the older man. It was remarkable, the very arrogance he had. "How do you propose I get rid of Phoenix, mm?"

"I don't believe that's my problem, Miles Edgeworth, now is it?" The man then shrugged and shook his head slowly, that wonderfully awful self-assured smile crossing his face. "Never mind. I don't believe that driver will be a problem, will he?"

Miles shook his head, staring at the figures. His odds weren't good. Hell, they looked bloody _awful_, but if he could raise some sort of alarm… Gunshots in the park would certainly bring police attention, wouldn't it? He could only hope. "Send him over," he barked, taking another step forwards.

All of a sudden, the shaking figure of Phoenix was thrust forwards, and the defence lawyer staggered out into the light. He looked awful – pitiful. He was pale and while his chest was bandaged, he was still oozing blood slowly. Further injuries covered his body and by the way he carried one arm, had possibly been dislocated. Edgeworth shook as he watched Phoenix stagger out into the light and almost collapse. Almost. The magenta-clad lawyer was there before Phoenix could fall, supporting the man carefully. He walked him over to the care, suddenly aware of Vasquez's two henchmen lurking behind him and, with a snort, helped Phoenix into the car.

"Take him to the hospital," Edgeworth snapped at the shuddering driver, "Fast." He started to close the door and paused when Phoenix looked up at him in a sudden moment of lucidity.

"Thanks… Edgeworth," Phoenix stammered out, managing a slight smile that only made the man look worse. "Aren't … you coming?"

Edgeworth shook his head as he shut the door firmly and turned to face the eight as the car sped away. "I wish," he murmured, a faint smirk crossing his face as he placed his hands in his pockets. There, he felt the two pistols he had 'appropriated' from Gumshoe earlier and managed to somehow, unobtrusively, switch off the safety catches. He could get off perhaps two shots per gun before the rest got him – he had to make those possible four bullets count.

As the eight figures surrounded him, Edgeworth smirked and stared up through his grey fringe. He narrowed his eyes as he suddenly pulled out the two pistols. He got four shots out before he went down, that triumphant smile still on his face.

Phoenix stirred as he lay sprawled out on the back seat. Through a haze of pain and what he was sure was one hell of a fever, he could see only one figure, and that certainly wasn't Edgeworth. He struggled to get up and look through the windshield. "Edgeworth?" he muttered quizzically, frowning as he couldn't see the stern prosecutor.

Then the four shots rang through the air and Phoenix jerked up to a sitting position, gasping at the pain it brought him. "Edgeworth?!" he croaked, immediately patting his pockets for his phone. Oh, how idiotic. They'd taken it quite some time ago and smashed it. But then his eyes caught the rectangular glint of something on the seat and, grabbing it, realised it was Edgeworth's. It wasn't pink, shockingly enough.

It was really quite a sign that he could make such sarky comments at a time like that, he thought as he looked at the display. Gumshoe's number was already keyed in. Ah Edgeworth. Ever the planner, he supposed. Groaning, he fell back into a reclining position and hit the call button.

As it rang, he stared at the ceiling, wondering just what on earth had possessed Edgeworth to take such… idiotic actions. God, the fool! The moment Gumshoe picked up, Phoenix grinned; a rictus of pain.

"Gumshoe!" he snapped, not knowing where he got the strength for such an outburst. "Don't talk," he commanded, voice firming as he continued, "Edgeworth is in the park by his offices. With…" here he faltered, voice quavering as an indication of his weakness. "Von Karma. Dee Vasquez. The people who… kidnapped me." He was fading fast now; he could feel unconsciousness rising up to claim him. "Heard shots. Go. Rescue him." He waited for Gumshoe's shocked assent before hitting the red button and slumping back. Not long now until he reached the hospital and hopefully – Edgeworth would be with him soon.

The last Edgeworth could remember was firing off the pistols rapidly in a desperate attempt, and then being _tackled_ by the collective. Well, except for Von Karma – the arrogant bastard had been standing aside with his arms crossed, that infuriatingly awful smirk on his harsh face. And he had looked so satisfied! It had been horrendous, thinking the last thing he would see on this earth would be Von Karma's face.

And what had happened afterwards? Edgeworth had no idea how he was alive. He had been so sure he was dead the moment he had hit the ground, for there had been an almighty flash of pain and then – nothing. But apparently not. With a little murmur, he twitched and stretched out, 'brows knitting at the sensation of cool linen on his skin. He half-opened an eye (so very gingerly. The sensation of light was like little daggers stabbing into his eyeballs) and saw what looked to be some sort of monitoring machine.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

"What is that blasted noise?" he muttered, rolling onto his side –away from the unbearable source of light – and opened his eyes properly. Was he in the hospital? How the _hell_ was he alive? One hand involuntarily went to his head, where he felt bandages and… no hair? Where was his hair?! He sat bolt upright in his bed – only to fall back onto the bed as spasms of nausea hit him.

"Good to see you're in such a brilliant mood, Edgeworth," a voice muttered, coming from the other bed in the room. The sheets twitched and the occupant rolled over, cracking one eye to peer at Edgeworth.

"Be quiet, Wright," Edgeworth retorted reflexively then gave a start. "Phoenix?" he murmured, frowning as he tried to prop himself up. Bloody pillows kept getting in the way, though. "You're alive?"

Phoenix was not in the mood for friendly banter – he was tired, he damn well hurt _everywhere_, the medication had yet to set in, and his hair was flat! "Obviously," he grumbled, glaring at the prosecutor. Well, at least he had hair. However, his expression then softened and a slight smile crossed his face. "Thanks to you though."

"All in a day's work," Edgeworth retorted, snorting. "How else was I supposed to capture those …" he restrained himself from some rather vulgar language, and consented himself with; "Those unsavoury people."

"By not using yourself as bait, maybe?" Phoenix rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, before half-heartedly stabbing at a remote to raise the back of his bed a tad. "I do mean thank you, though," he tilted his head to stare at Edgeworth, "You risked yourself to save me. You put yourself in such danger… Hell, Edgeworth, you were comatose for a _week!_"

Edgeworth's eyes shot open – ignoring that damned light – and his hand flew back up to his bandage. He gingerly felt his head and looked quite panicked. "Comatose?" he echoed dully, suddenly bemoaning the loss of his wonderful fringe. "For a _**week?!**_" He suddenly glanced up as a few doctors came scurrying into the room, looking rather excited and clutching clipboards to their chests.

"Yeah. You haven't been the best roommate, let me tell you…" Phoenix grinned at Edgeworth and rolled over, presumably to have another catnap, "Enjoy the examinations," he called out and settled down into the blankets. "And I meant it. You saved my life. I… owe you one."

"Would the witness _please_ present his testimony? I don't _care_ that you're Prosecutor Edgeworth – right now, you're a witness in my court and I can have you charged for contempt of court if you do not testify right now!"

Edgeworth glanced up at the Judge, noting with a little smirk just how flustered she seemed to be. Perhaps he could manipulate the new judge just like he had the old. "Of course," he conceded with one of his half-bows and sweeping gestures. "Anything for this court." Staring down the defence – some pathetic little defence lawyer, but what did it matter? No one could get _these_ guys off- he began with a little smirk and cleared his throat.

"Von Karma contacted me at around 4.50PM the day before I was attacked. He was offering me a little… deal. After his usual ridiculous blustering-" he paused as Von Karma, surrounded by bailiffs, spluttered with rage and turned a shocking crimson, "He came out with it. My life in exchange for Phoenix's. I was to meet him at 9 o'clock in the park by my offices, alone. He specifically stated without my 'incompetent' pal. Detective Gumshoe, of course. He stated that Phoenix would die, should I turn up with company. I then hung up on him. There was no further communication until I arrived at the park at 8.55PM the next day. They arrived at 9 o'clock promptly. I saw Damon Gant, Manfred Von Karma, Dee Vasquez, Redd White, two of Vasquez's henchmen, and a young woman. They handed over Phoenix, I put him in the car waiting, and sent him off. Then… they attacked me."

"Objection!" The defence lawyer, by now seriously sweating and trying to buy time furiously –such a Phoenix Wright trick, no?- exclaimed, leaning forwards.

Edgeworth snorted and cut in over the Judge, smirking his wonderfully supercilious expression. "I don't believe it's time for you to cross-examine me, no? And didn't your mother ever teach you manners? It's rude to interrupt someone when they're speaking."

"Objection overruled," the judge agreed, with a little bang of her gavel. "You should mind your manners, young man." Never mind she was only a few years older.

"Thank you, Your Honour," Edgeworth glanced up at the Judge, passing a hand through his rather short grey hair. The damned doctors had shaved it in order to operate and he really rather bemoaned the loss of his wonderful hair.

"As I was saying. They attacked me, my head hit the ground and… That's all I can remember. **Now**, Mr Defence Lawyer, you may cross-examine me." Edgeworth snorted and folded his arms over on his chest, trying to ooze arrogance.

"Th-thank you, Sir." The lawyer paused and glanced at the court record, frowning. "The court record says four bullets were found at the scene – coming from two pistols with your fingerprints on them. How do you explain this?"

"Ah, them? Well obviously, Mr Defence Lawyer, I brought two pistols with me as self-defence. They were planning to kill me. Does the court record not mention the weaponry on the bodyguards, no? What about Gant's pistol? Plus, I only mildly injured them."

"…You know as well as I do that the bodyguards were found to have large rifles on them – AK-47's or something- but really I must protest-!"

"I had two pistols and four bullets. They each had a rifle with quite a bit of ammunition and Gant had his own pistol. Is that unfair odds, do you think?"

"Well, yes but… You shot them in rather unorthodox places. One 'henchman' as you put it was shot in the thigh, the other in the…" he paused to make a face, "The groin. You got Dee Vasquez through her palm and scraped Gant."

"See? I wasn't shooting to kill, now was I? Although perhaps the groin was a little extreme. He has had children, no? They were _bleeding_ when the police arrived. That is all. If the pistols are your only concern, then I'd like to step down from the witness box. Your line of questioning is slightly ludicrous and you are just trying to buy time, Wr-" He cut himself off and snorted, glaring at the defence lawyer.

"Mr Edgeworth has taken the words from my mouth. The defence is pursuing an irrelevant line of questioning, and there doesn't seem to be anything contradictory with his testimony. Witness, you may step down."

Edgeworth bowed his head and smiled, stepping down from the box. He walked from the courtroom – glaring at the bailiff escorting. He doubted he'd get over _that_ grudge soon – and paused a moment, taking a deep breath. Damn, he had bloody well done the prosecution's job for him! He suspected that the useless defence had been the only lawyer brave enough – or _stupid_ enough, rather – to take the case.

Nodding to himself, he stepped up into the gallery on the prosecution's side, letting his gaze fall down on the gathered. Von Karma, Gant, Vasquez… He sat down in time to hear;

"This court finds the accused guilty of the crimes of murdering one… Judge?, as well as abduction and assault. Sentencing for these crimes will come at a later date."

The gallery, as one unit, stood up to applaud furiously, cheering and shouting. Edgeworth himself leapt back to his feet, allowing a _very_ uncharacteristic grin to cross his normally austere face. He turned to Phoenix, who was positively jumping up and down in his joy, then to Maya who was seated behind them and grinning so broadly. It was a good ending, no?

"You know, Edgeworth, I don't think I ever properly thanked you for saving my life." The pair were seated on a bench in the very park the exchange had happened, many months before. Edgeworth was sitting bolt upright, watching the sun's reflection scattering over the little wavelets lapping across the small lake. His hair had finally grown back, a fact which had the prosecutor overjoyed. Who'd think he'd be so fussed about his hair? A fact which really only Phoenix, the spiky-haired defence lawyer himself, could understand.

"Wright," Edgeworth drawled, glancing over at the blue-suited attorney, "I have lost _count_ of the number of times you have thanked me. And I have told you – I wasn't saving your life. I just wanted to – "

"I know, I know. You just wanted to get Von Karma and company." Phoenix snorted and watched the prosecution, staring at the pale face in profile. "But you know I don't believe that. Not a single word of it. I think you're just making up an excuse."

Edgeworth turned from staring at the little lake to Phoenix, arching one eyebrow in what he referred to as a sardonic stare. "What? You think I chose _you, _Phoenix Wright, a stubborn, hot-headed, impetuous man over justice? Stop kidding yourself, Wright." He remained staring at Phoenix with scorn scrawled all over his haughty face, trying to convey the _sheer idiocy_ of Phoenix's notions.

"Yes, I think you did." Here Phoenix leant forwards, as if sharing some intimate secret with Edgeworth. Unconsciously, Edgeworth leant forwards too, keen to hear such clandestine information. "After all, justice just isn't this…" Phoenix darted in, a smirk stolen from Edgeworth on his lips. He kissed the prosecutor ferociously, clutching the other man to him with sudden fervour. Releasing the shocked lawyer with a grin, he broke into laughter. Edgeworth's face was priceless! "Justice just isn't this sexy."

(…You know, I didn't really think it'd be over this soon. It's only been a couple of months – but hey. Egads, but that was a rather clichéd and romantic end though. xP. Got to stop doing that. Damn happy endings ruining my grumpy rep.

Suppose I'll get to my other PW projects – including one about Future!Phoenix and perhaps re-work some of the earlier chapters of this fic. According to another PW fic community, they suck. Can't believe I finished this chapter so _quickly_ though. Hm.

So… Scurvy, out.)


End file.
